Fear and Love
by RainSpark
Summary: The King of Nightmares and the Guardian of Love have always had a dangerous, but forbidden, attraction to each other. Bridges are burned, lines are crossed, and promises are broken as the lovers disregard the rules and unleash an uncontrollable force with devastating consequences. Pitch/OC
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Rise of the Guardians, although I do wish Pitch was mine. Don't we all? Cupid is mine though, well this version of her is. Anywho, thank you very much for stopping by to take a read, there will be more soon! Reviews are always appreciated! :)

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**Prologue**

"_In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." –Francis Bacon_

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Cupid's heart shaped lips smashed into his mouth. Pitch's eyes widened as he felt her hands begin to pull at his robe, attempting to pull it open. When he felt her fingertips against his chest, he uttered a soft moan against her mouth. He snapped his fingers and right underneath her hands, his cloak dissolved into black sand, melting from his torso, leaving only his pants and shoes to cover him. Her fingers explored his chest fiercely and to show her gratitude, the guardian of love opened her mouth completely and let her tongue dance against his. She tasted his loneliness, his need for a companion. The king had been alone for so long, his hands remained by his side as if he were scared to physically touch her. Her tongue was as soft as a rose petal, tasted like chocolate and Pitch Black wanted to consume her entirely. He had lovers in the past of course, queens of fire, wood, and stone ravaged him in the dark ages, but Cupid was different. Passion, seduction, and desire were her strongest suits and she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Perfectly. Pitch was slightly worried that she would challenge him sexually. A competition he would not lose and if that meant breaking her body, so be it. The temptress wrapped her hands around his hips, guiding them to press against hers while her tongue fought for control over his. The boogieman finally freed his hands, placed them on top of hers and gave her whole body a slight shove. Surprised, she released her lips from his.

Cupid fell back into his bed of black silk, which seemed to generate out of nowhere. Pitch Black, his hands never leaving her hips, hovered over her. His intense, eclipsed eyes focused onto her wide violets. Her heart was beating out of control, and she was failing to control her anxiety. This was his palace, his lair and he would have demanded she leave his presence if she stepped even the slightest bit out of line with him. But she was here, in his bed, with him above her. Expecting her answer to the question he didn't have to ask. How far was this going to go between them?

Given that he was considered "forbidden" by the other guardians, even with friendship, she was tempted to take it to the furthest point. This could never happen between them. He was darkness, she was light. He was fear and she was love. Pitch was known for his devastation and chaos. He couldn't have been wanting this either, not with her anyways, the guardian of romance and happily ever afters. But here he was, waiting for her response.

He raised an eyebrow impatiently at her. Without overthinking it any longer, she nodded her head silently, sealing the deal. Her soft hands reached towards him, and anchored themselves at the base of his neck, pulling his face crashing onto hers once more. His lips attacked hers with such a strong force that for a split second, she feared that she had made the wrong decision. He sensed that fear, and formed a small smile against her lips. He was winning. His tongue demanded its way into her month but she was not about to let him in without working for it. Quickly, she wrapped her lips around it and began to suck slowly. Pitch moaned with pleasure to the unexpected surprise and let her continue. Seeing that she was clearly distracted, his hands began to slowly slide upwards from her hips. Cupid released her hold on his mouth when she felt his cold hands make their way up her back. Each of his fingers was wrapped around by a blonde curl within the giant mass of hair. He lifted her head towards him this time and claimed her mouth as his prize. The guardian pulled the king's body towards her own, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her fingers began to stroke the skin against his spine repetitively, almost as if she were trying to memorize it.

Cupid could feel Pitch's body begin to rub against her own in such a way no one could wrongly interpret, all the while his mouth was still exploring hers. Wanting to know what he would do next, she opened her legs slightly, just to tease him a little. Instantly, creating a pillow for her head, his hands left the curly mess. He gripped her thighs just below the hem of her short, roman styled, white dress and began to slowly stroke them, claiming the upper hand once more. His fingers were cold and rough, resulting in a deep moan from her throat. Instinctively, she wrapped one of her legs around the back of one of his, allowing any free space between them to disappear. Eager to taste more of her, he retreated his tongue from her mouth and began kiss her neck softly, earning some gasps from her. His lips were electrifying against her skin and Cupid craved more. Her lips formed a small grin when she thought about those lips kissing other parts of her body. A small blush crept into her cheeks when she felt his bulge grinding against the fabric covering her belly button.

Her hands abandoned his back and made their way into his spiked hair, surprised by its unexpected softness masked under countless layers of gel. She gave a slight tug, signaling the appropriate action.

"You wish to stop?" he asked as he reluctantly pulled away from her neck. His golden eyes examined her face, in case she her response was a lie. Cupid, almost offended by such a stupid question, shook her head slightly. Pitch raised an eyebrow, growing impatient with her.

"Touch me…" she whispered softly. Pitch froze on the spot, not only was she telling the truth, she was begging him to take the next step. He never understood his attraction to Cupid, why he felt the desire to constantly be around her and the slight sadness that consumed him when he wasn't. He would have known if the guardian had put some sort of spell on him or shot him with that damn crossbow of hers but she never did, she was here willingly…wanting him as he much as he had always wanted her. Filling that void of loneliness he carried since his birth and fully aware of the consequences if this were to happen. He released the breath he was holding back, while his eyes left her face and focused themselves on the thin white straps on her shoulders. All he would have to do is unhook the pendants that held the straps to her chest and it would be completely exposed. Silently, but with a grin, his finger traced the pattern on the left pendant. It was of an arrow surrounded by several swirls. He caught her holding her breath, anticipating the moment. Just as eager as she was, his finger unhooked the latch and then again with its twin. Cupid pulled the weighted down straps over the back her shoulders to rest on the bed, leaving only a thin piece of white fabric to rest on her chest. She could sit up and let fall on its own, denying him the privilege for himself but that would almost be too cruel. Pitch gently peeled back the fabric, letting it fall over her stomach, as his hands held on to her bare shoulders.

She was perfect sculpted. Firm and plump without a single scar or blemish. Not as voluptuous as her Aphrodite form but not as immature and small as her Juliet form. They seemed a perfect fit for his hands, which were starting to shake as soon as he noticed her rosebud shaped nipples were perked up from her own uncontained excitement. It took every bit of strength he had not to ravage her right there.

"I could change, Pitch...if I'm not..." she whispered out of concern from his lingering stare. Before he could object, her blonde curly mess of hair exploded into a tight brunette bun.

"No!" he bellowed harshly, his voice echoing throughout his kingdom. Her bun then burst back into her natural blonde curls as she avoided his eyes.

"Never. Do. That. Again." He growled through his jagged teeth. Cupid nodded slowly, making eye contact. Wanting to get back on his good side, she lifted herself up with her arms so she was at his eye level.

"My deepest regrets…your Majesty…" she whimpered through her pouty lips, inching closer and closer to his mouth. Before he could understand what her goal was, she already achieved it. Her lips both closed around his bottom lip and began to suck it at an alarmingly fast pace. His frustration with her quickly passed as he wrapped his arms around her back and pushed her back into the bed, resuming their previous position. His right hand left the bed and claimed her left breast with such a fierce grip, it left her breathless. He moaned into her ear as his hand began to squeeze tenderly, placing her nipple beneath his thumb. Cupid released his lip, throwing her head back whilst gasping in pleasure.

"Oh…" she panted towards the ceiling, arching her back. Her hips crashed into his, quickening his pace. Pitch's other hand began mimicking the actions of its twin on her other breast while he enjoyed her pleasurable expressions on her face. He wanted more of her, to take it one step further. For her to be screaming his name in ecstasy. Without warning, he lowered his mouth and let his tongue take the place of his thumb. Pitch could feel her body wiggle underneath of his and it pleased him greatly. His mouth engulfed her nipple entirely, his tongue licking it while his cold lips opened and closed around it repetitively.

"Don't…stop…please.." she cried out while pulling onto his hair. His mouth moved to her other breast, giving it an equal treatment. His free hand reached up towards her hair, stroking her face. Cupid kissed the tips of his finger before pulling one into her mouth. Pitch groaned into her breast as she began to suck on it. His penis began throbbing against the fabric covering her core from the pleasure.

"Mmm…" she moaned as her tongue licked across his nail. "Mmm…"

He sucked harder on her chest but craved more, he need more. The King pulled his hand free and began feverishly pulling the remainder of her dress while she began pulling at his hair once more, trying to keep her composure but failing miserably. Her dress was tightened around her waist by single pink ribbon that once removed would cause the entire thing to slide off effortlessly. His hands fumbled with the knot, his impatience growing alongside hers.

"More…" she moaned out. "I want more…"

Irritated, Pitch Black released her breast from his mouth and used his pointed teeth to slice the ribbon, clawing down the dress with the ferocity of an animal. Once removed, it was thrown onto the floor, now being a worthless item.

His body tensed and froze at the sight before him. There was just a one barrier left, a thin barrier of white cotton between him and her core, but that wasn't where his eyes were focusing. Directly above her panty line was scar that ran across her entire stomach from hip to hip. The scar was jagged and looked as if had been cut with by an amateur who couldn't tell a straight line from a wave. It was deep in some parts, almost like stab…wounds. Furious that anyone had done this to such a perfect body, Pitch stood up from the bed, leaving her confused as well as slightly disappointed their actions had stopped.

"Who did that to you?!" he commanded angrily.

"Pitch..I…" Cupid stuttered out quietly, slightly touched that the Boogeyman was even concerned.

"WHO?!" he screamed, his voice rattling the cages that hung above their heads. Cupid had finally had enough with his impatience for one evening. "I don't know!" she screamed back, although nowhere as powerful as him. "I've always had it…even when I change my body, it remains there." Pitch looked at her confusingly, like she was speaking gibberish.

"It doesn't hurt..." She said in a softer tone, trying to calm him down.

"Hurting you…is a concern far from my mind right now, Cupid…" he mischievously cocked an eyebrow at her and slowly made his way back to the naked guardian laying on his bed. Something he never thought would happen. The black clothing that surrounded his legs suddenly turned into black sand and fell off of his body with ease. Cupid's eyes widened at the sheer sight of it. Being the creator of fairy tales and the idea of 'True Love', she had been with many lovers but no one like Pitch. He was built flawlessly. How she desired to explore his body up close, to feel it, to have it move in perfect rhythm with hers. She responded by bending down and removed her underwear, denying him the privilege to do so.

"That's interesting, Your Majesty." She raised her eyebrow at him this time as he inched closer to her, slowly taking in her entire exposed body. "I was thinking the same thing…about you." Then she flung the underwear off her foot, throwing it on top of her dress. His lips crashed down onto hers once more, pushing her body down as his fell down on top of hers. Their naked bodies grinded against each other, flesh to flesh. Cupid could feel him rubbing against her entrance, practically begging for entry. His tongue began thrusting into her mouth, clearly showing what he intended to do. Her perfect teeth gently bit down, causing it to retreat back to its owner.

"It's okay, Pitch…I'll be gentle." She teased and to him, that was the final straw. No more foreplay, no more messing around. She was challenging him and he would not stand for it any longer. As his hand left her body and to handle a part of his, a burst of emotions ran through the guardian's head. This was the point of no return, life…eternity would never be same after this. She would have to look into the eyes of North, Bunnymund, Tooth, Sandy, and…Jack knowing that she crossed a line, burned a bridge. She took an oath, to protect the children of the world from evil forces, and here she was about to have sex with the Boogieman himself.

'_What are you doing, Cupid? This is...wrong. What would they think? What would…Jack think? They'll never forgive you if they find out.'_ She thought to herself.

"Pitch…I.." she spoke with a tone much sadder than she wanted it to be. She stopped when she felt his lips press themselves against her cheek, catching a tear she failed to notice. It was gesture she never expected from him. Especially when just seconds ago, he was gripping his own penis, ready to force it into her body. It was simple, sweet, and entirely out of character.

"How…?" Cupid managed to mumble as her fingers began to stroke his cheek, thanking him for his sudden kindness. And then he laughed, the King of Nightmares laughed. It wasn't a menacing or mischievous laugh that she had heard on multiple occasions throughout the years, but it a genuine laugh created from amusement. He found something funny and expressed it through a sound that instantly brought a smile to her face. It was beautiful, like him.

"You're really asking that…?" he remarked sarcastically. Normally, he wouldn't put up with so many distractions during sex but Cupid's presence was refreshingly delightful in his usually cold and lonely world. He sensed her fear suddenly bloom out of nowhere and for some reason that he just couldn't pinpoint, he felt compelled to comfort her. An action he wasn't even aware he could feel. There was never anyone in his life that he felt the need to console, but then again, Cupid wasn't just anyone. He formed a bright smile when her eyes finally lit up with the realization of how completely ridiculous her question was.

"Oh my goodness…" she yelled out, trying to hide her blushing face behind some loose curls. He kissed her lips lightly, borderline romantically. "Don't overthink it, Cupid. What you fear is strictly hypothetical. Right now is the truth, a truth that doesn't have to be broadcasted. In fact, I would prefer it not to be." She nodded silently, agreeing with him. What was about to happen to them was between them. No one else had to know. No one else needed to know.

"Are you ready?" he asked seductively in her ear, desperately trying to not let the distractions keep him from going limp.

"Yes." She whispered, and stroked his face once more to assure him of her choice. Her choice to make love to him, to give herself entirely to him and him to her. Pitch kissed her lips forcefully, holding her head still while he adjusted himself to her tightness. Despite her past lovers over the centuries, she felt like a virgin untouched by a man and turned him on even more than he expected. She groaned against his mouth in anticipation, her tongue gliding across his lips. Her hands gripped onto his shoulders, to brace herself.

Then she felt it, her beautiful Nightmare King's shaft was completely inside of her. He gave a low grunt as he suddenly gave a small thrust into her, filling the rest of her void. She gave a tight wince of pain from the underestimated size of him. A sound that went completely unnoticed on his end as he relished in the pleasure of her tightness gripping around him. It was pure ecstasy, and caused a surge of emotions that expelled from his body in the form of a deep moan. He opened his eyes and placed a small kiss on her neck, trying to relieve any discomfort she might have had.

"Do you still want me?" he questioned smoothly in that dark, sensual voice of his, not wanting her to regret a single moment with him.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Cupid replied respectively to the King. She considering it a great privilege that he had chosen her to lay in his own bed with him, in his kingdom. She twirled a piece of his hair around her finger in a playful manner and gave him such a beaming smile, he couldn't help but return it with a smile of his own. He stared into her eyes, searching for an answer. She always felt comfortable around him, and had always given him the unrequired kindness the others were ironically deprived of. For some unknown reason, Cupid seemed to understand his loneliness and never took advantage of it and Pitch wanted to know why. Why him?

"I want you. Don't overthink it." She assured him then gave him a flirty wink.

With that being said, the Boogieman buried his lips into her neck as he began to thrust in and out of her repetitively, his hips grinding into hers. It didn't take long before gorgeous sounds began to erupt from her pouty lips, mixed sounds measuring from soft groans to breathless pants, all echoing off the walls and cages in his lair. Her fingers began turning white as she gripped onto his black sheets. Pitch began to pick up his pace releasing several moans of pleasure himself. He could remember the way every lover he ever had felt and none of them could even remotely compare to her tightness. He could feel Cupid's legs wrap themselves around his waist, pushing him deeper into her.

"Oh!" he cried out, feeling himself getting closer to his peak. It was too soon, he had to wait it out, he would not finish before her. He wouldn't . Pitch would ride her until her release came first. Little did he know she was thinking the exact same thing about him, she would wear him out first, make him beg for her.

"C'mon, get there. Come for me. Come for your king." He commanded and began to squeeze her right breast as he continued panting into her neck, still thrusting into her with an impressive speed. Then he thought of it, a way to trick her. He could give her the illusion that she was in control, only to wait until she was completely exhausted.

"Let me ride you, darling." She requested before kissing his temple. He blushed at that nickname. No one had ever called him such an affectionate name before. No one before her. Ever. Pitch would never let another lover call him that for the rest of his days. That was her name and hers alone. Pitch's hands abandoned her breasts and gripped onto her thighs as tight as he could without breaking her delicate skin. The loud grunt exhaled from his mouth as he gave a powerful, deep thrust into her.

"Hold on." He whispered into her ear. If not for her incredible self-control, she would have come for him right on the spot. Following his order without question, which he noticed, she gripped on to his chest and pressed her face into his neck. Pitch wrapped his arms around her back and rolled to his right, his back landing against the pillows. Cupid could feel him twitch inside of her, giving her permission to take control of him now. She sat up, pressing her hands firmly on his pecks. His hands reached up and began to caress her chest, one finger delicately stroking her collarbone. Her lower lip began to lower, as if she was anxious or slightly hesitant to begin. Pitch unexpectedly bucked his hips upwards, rewarding himself with a small coo from the guardian.

Cupid began to rock her hips forwards and backwards in a somewhat slow rhythm, as if she were trying to purposely torture him with pleasure. He was fast man, he needed speed to finish and she wasn't going to let him win this.

"Harder." He demanded roughly, both of his hands squeezing her breasts tightly. She sunk deeper into him, earning two deep throated moans from the nightmare king, but she rebelled against picking up her speed. Fully aware of her plan, Pitch's hands abandoned her chest and grabbed onto her waist. Cupid became instantly breathless as she felt his cold hands slide up her sides, the very tips of his fingers almost tickling her stomach. She arched her back slightly, allowing him to plant soft kisses on it. Her hands began to explore his bare chest once more as her hips continued to rock at a consistently slow, but still pleasurable speed.

"Ooh…" she managed to huff out between pants as his hands gripped onto her hips and began guiding them at a slightly faster pace. At this point, she was thinking about giving in and letting him win, it just felt so good. "Ah!" she shouted out in a slight pain when she felt his pointed teeth on her breasts but when his tongue began to flick her nipples at the same time, the pain was instantly forgiven. She reached over his shoulders and pulled on his back so his entire body was pushed into her tighter, at the same time causing him to go deeper into her core. It was then her speed picked up quickly. His hips began to catch up with hers, thrusting into her at this angle was almost more than she could bear.

"Oh Pitch…don't stop…don't…stop…please." She pleaded between whimpers. Her breath became exhausted and rapid; she was losing control of herself and he was enjoying it.

"Mmmm…." He purred into her chest as his thrusting began to overpower hers, it was starting to become too much for her. He let go of her breasts and pulled himself up so she was sitting directly in his lap. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist. He began to grind harder and faster into her, panting loudly each time. All of a sudden, he felt the flesh on her back begin to change as she moaned, bouncing her hips as fast as she physically could. A pair of giant white wings burst of out her spine as she began crying out in intense pleasure. Layers upon layers of perfectly white feathers hiked up stopping right above her head. Startled by their sudden appearance, Pitch fell backwards, landing on his shoulders. He had seen her wings hundreds of times, they were her mode of transportation, but never like this, not when she was completely exposed. She looked like a perfect being, an angel he dared to think.

"Beautiful." He whispered softly, wanting her to hear him but at the same time hoping she didn't. Pitch sat back up and grabbed on her waist very tightly, attempting to bring her speed up to his. Her tightness was getting to him, it wouldn't be much longer before he would release.

"Oh..oh..oh..oh.." she shouted out, her voice echoing off the hollow walls. They were finally in sync with their speed, they were going to ride it out together. A choice neither of them complained about. "C'mon Cupid…come for me…come for me." He moaned as he squeezed his eyes shut. They began thrashing into each other, their thrusts because forceful and sporadic. His nails dug into her skin, breaking it. Her wings spread out, wrapping themselves around the lovers, almost creating a cocoon…a haven. His pants soon morphed into growls as he thrusted harder and harder into her. Cupid's voice was beginning to crack from the overwhelming amount of pleasure that began to rattle her whole body.

"Here I come, Pitch…I…I…I…ooh." she cried. Pitch could feel her walls begin to close around him, sending him closer to the brink. Her orgasm shocked her entire core as she screamed out a beautiful sound of ecstasy. Pitch sank his teeth into her shoulder to muffle his moans as his own release followed immediately. He fell backwards into his bed as Cupid's wings folded back into her spine. She pulled herself from his hold and collapsed next to him, basking the coolness of his silk sheets. He pierced her wide violet eyes with his memorizing golden ones. She stared at his face, searching for any flaw that she might have overlooked and found nothing much to her happiness. One of his fingers reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Flashing him a bright smile, Cupid leaned forward and pecked a small kiss on the very tip of his nose. Pitch couldn't hide the crimson glow beginning to spread across his face, weirdly enough, he didn't want to. It earned him a soft giggle from her mouth. A sensation began to flow through him, a desire he had never felt before. He wanted to protect her, to prevent any harm from being placed upon her. To make sure every day he could make her happy. And although that should have terrified him, oddly enough, it didn't. He had enough control over his own fears. Except one. A brand new fear that was birthed as soon he felt her lips against his own. A fear that he never thought he would ever associate with her, let alone anyone. Cupid, the guardian of romance, he was scared of losing her.

Cupid turned her gaze away from him to focus on the swinging cages dangling above them, hoping they would distract her so her breathing would fall back into a normal pattern. Whatever fears she had towards the other guardians and towards the King of fears disappeared. She saw past his cold and angry exterior and saw his true loneliness, his deep but hidden desire to have a companion. To spend the rest of his days with someone by his side…to be loved…to be…believed in.

"Cupid…" he softly whispered, bringing her back to sweet reality. Her mind became clouded from the way he said her name in this new tone of his.

"Yes…Darling?" she replied dreamily, completely unaware of ridiculous she sounded. He let out a light chuckle before focusing his attention back on his first concern.

"You're doing it, again…" he said rather annoyingly. Cupid instantly snapped out her juvenile mindset and casted her gaze to her stomach, where her hands were stroking tiny patterns against the skin. A habit she had done for centuries, since she remembered waking up, when the moon told her who she was. After the first two hundred years, she did it consciously without a second thought, although the reason why she did it would pop up occasionally with boredom. Unable to give Pitch a proper response, she rolled away from him and tucked her legs into her chest.

"I…don't…know…" she mumbled out into the empty air. Cupid's breath became caught in her throat when she felt his face press into hers and his long, slender arms lay on top of her own. She felt his lips press against her cheek and somehow, she knew everything about her past would be answered eventually and if not, she knew someone who's past was just as mysterious as hers and she could accept that. She reached for that someone's hand and laced his fingers between hers before her eyelids sealed completely for the remainder of the night.

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woo! that was steamy, huh? Don't worries guys! I'll be updating soon! :)


	2. The Morning After

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing but my own interpretation of Ms. Cupid. All other things belong to the lovely Dreamworks company. I'd like to give a special shout to Anna for her very kind words. :) Enjoy and please R&R!

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**Chapter One**

**The Morning After**

"_Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness." -Martin Luther King, Jr._

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"Feeling the weight of your actions, Cupid?" he sarcastically questioned to the topless blonde on his right. She woke up about an hour ago and hadn't spoken a single word to him, let alone looked him in the eyes. Fully clothed back into his normal attire, Pitch sat about a foot away from the guardian, waiting for some of reaction. Good or Bad. Her arms were crossed across her chest, in a completely defensive position as she pretended her focus on was on his cathedral ceilings. Her mind was racing at a million miles an hour. She cursed her own damn impulsiveness and lack of self-control against the man whose bed she was laying in, on top of wondering how in the world she was going to look her fellow guardians in the eyes if Pitch was ever brought up in casual conversation among them. She took in a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, she would be back in her kingdom on Cloud Nine and this would have all been a beautiful nightmare. Making love to Pitch would remain a dark, forbidden, and wonderful temptation in her mind.

"If it makes you feel better, you initiated it." He added, laughing manically at his own witty cruelness.

Letting out a deep sigh, Cupid rolled to her left and gazed into his eclipsed and mischievous eyes. "I'm aware of that."

Cupid had arrived in his lair for their usual one on one time that mostly consisted of dinner and conversation about their work day. Sometimes the evening would end with a kiss on the hand or if he was in a good mood, a slow dance in silence. For about twelve years, that was all it ever escalated to because that was all it could ever be. Until last night.

It started with an argument. An argument about Jack Frost. Pitch asked, no commanded, that she prove right then and there if she shared the same romantic feelings towards the guardian of fun that he obviously carried for her. Cupid, enraged that Pitch had the nerve to insult her best friend as well as her feelings towards him, acted on the first instinct her impulsive mind could think of. She kissed Pitch. Hard. Breaking the oath she had made to Sandy, and to Tooth, and to North, and to Bunnymund and to…Jack. The oath that she would never let anything happen between her and their biggest threat. The sneaking around and "dates" for lack of a better term, though hard work sometimes, were always adventurous and thrilling. But last night was beautiful, chaotic, and stupid. It wasn't like she could curl up and die tomorrow, taking her actions to her grave. She, like him and her friends, was immortal. She had to carry this burden around until the Earth decided to curl up and die around her. If the other guardians found out, they would cast her out into the world all alone. She would never be able to talk to Jack again. The tears hiding behind her eyes forced their way out when she realized she would never see her best friend again, never see his smile, never hear his laugh, never help him out of trouble, and never help him cause trouble again. Because she slept with the man she was attracted to, the man who was in her dreams every night, the man who despite standing for everything she was morally against made her heart flutter at just thinking about him. Cupid clutched onto her stomach as she released an uncontrollable sob from her mouth. She couldn't lose Pitch, no. Losing him would create another empty void in her life. She was over Shakespeare, the Grimm Brothers, and all her numerous lovers in Rome and Greece, but Pitch meant so much to her than just a few short lived flings. The thought of him being passed off as a one night stand caused her heart to go numb.

"Do you regret me?" He interrupted. Very aware of the violent battle going on in her head, Pitch tenderly caressed her porcelain cheek with his long, slender fingers before gently pressing his lips against it.

"No." she replied honestly.

She shoved the potential consequences to the back of her mind for the time being, wiping her tears away. "I guess 'date' number four thousand, three hundred, and eighty nine is the magic number, huh?" she commented before chuckling. Pitch rolled his eyes at her silly statement.

Cupid removed the sheets from her naked body and playfully tackled him, pinning him by his shoulders against the cool sheets and straddling him with her thighs. She released two or three giggles into the air, hoping her lover would do the same. She adored that laugh of his, deciding that it wasn't fair she was only able to hear it once.

"You know, you are the first man to make love to me in this form." She boasted, resting her head on her arms on top of his chest. "Although, I was unaware of your preference for brunettes."

"This is your natural form. I consider it a privilege to be your first, Cupid." Tucking a piece of blonde curl behind her ear. "That ability of yours is a curse."

Nuzzling her face against his hand "So, we're going to ignore your apparent attraction to brunettes then?" she snickered.

"Since we're ignoring your apparent attraction to white haired, blue eyed, skinny, pale boys, it's only fair." He shot back with a cheeky grin.

"That's so strange…I think we've had this conversation before…"

"…and look what happened." He purred before pulling her face in for a kiss.

Cupid smiled against his mouth, finding it ironic and wonderful that the king of fears himself could vanish all of her fears away. However devastating and chaotic the outside world could become, she knew she could always come here and feel safe with him.

Suddenly she felt a force calling her away from Pitch's arms and towards North's kingdom. Normally, she would be all sorts of excited to see Jack but right now it was the absolute last place she wanted to be. Going would only cause her guilt to resurface but not attending would only arise suspicion towards her whereabouts. A risk she wasn't willing to take with Pitch, not with his strength being as low as it currently was as a result of his last brawl with them.

'_Damn meetings…' _she cursed to no one.

"I should go…" she reluctantly moaned into his lips. Pitch pressed his mouth deeper into hers, attempting to convince Cupid to stay for just a little bit longer. He knew she wanted stay. She knew she wanted to stay, but being the guardian of love meant never taking a day off from her job. There were flower bouquets to create, apology letters to write, candies to make and despite having absolutely no idea what time it is, she got the impression she was already very behind on her work. All of which had to take place after this unnecessary meeting.

"I could send…mmm… the clouds out for…mm… the whole day. I never go out…oh… in the field...mmmm… anymore anyways." She managed to force out between heated kisses. Pitch's hands roamed through her mess of curls before making their way down her spine. Cupid pressed her hands down hard onto his chest, pushing herself away from his mouth. "But I still have other business to attend to, Darling."

Releasing her wings for a well needed stretch, she fluttered over to her pile of wrinkled clothes.

"Will you come back tonight?" Pitch asked the young woman as she was putting on her underwear. His attempt not to sound desperate backfired and Cupid quickly put together that he wasn't asking because he wanted more sex, he was asking because she had spent the night with him. For the first time since he took his first breath, someone chose to fall asleep by his side.

"Pitch…I don't know…" she teased while straightening down her dress

"Cupid…" he pleaded, begging her to answer as he scooted to the end of the bed and closer to her.

She shot him a smile before tackling him on the bed again, this time with much more force with her wings giving an extra push. Kissing the very tip of his nose in the exact same way she did just hours prior made his heart stop beating for just a second. Cupid was known for her over affection towards men for many centuries but Pitch couldn't help but feel that she was going out of her way just for him.

"Yes, The usual time." She assured, making a mental note to bring an extra set of underwear.

"May I give you a parting gift?" he asked but after giving her a peck on the lips.

"As long as it's not cash…" she warned, not putting it past him as a cheap joke.

"Sit up and turn around." He ordered. Pleased that she did so right away without questioning, Pitch planted a small kiss at the base of her neck before extending one of his hands up into her left wing.

"Ow..." she hissed. She felt a tiny pinch before his hand retreated back to his side.

"Deep in those layers of white feathers, there is now one black feather. Completely invisible to anyone unless they go searching for it."

"Thank you." She whispered as she turned to face him. It was so unique, so personal and only the two of them knew of it.

'_It's like…us.' _She thought to herself, incredibly touched. A piece of darkness buried deep in a swarm of light, coexisting without a consequence. Light and Dark, together.

"I'm sorry. I don't have anything to give you." She pouted before she caressed his face. "Not yet anyways."

A small laugh emitted from Pitch's mouth as he kissed the palm of her hand before giving it back to her. "I already took what I wanted."

Gripping her stomach with her kissed hand, she nodded, knowing the true meaning behind that statement. The sex was just the heat of the moment, but she had stayed afterwards. He didn't ask and she didn't have to ask, they both knew it just felt right. Despite always carrying the weight of an empty void around for the past millennium, never being able to talk to the Man to the Moon, and not knowing what her "center" was as described by North, she felt complete around Pitch Black. A man who shared the same questions as her, about their purpose and their past lives, something she just couldn't talk about with the others.

"I really have to go, Pitch." She grumbled, hovering above him. "But, I'll be here tonight." Wrapping her arms around his head, she pulled him into one last lingering kiss before flying towards the entrance of his lair, disappearing out of his sight completely.

Pitch sat up from his bed as it disintegrated behind him and began to walk around his palace, the echoes of his boots ricocheting off the hanging cages and back into his cluttered mind.

"_You just had to provoke her, didn't you? Force her to make love to you, a pitiful creature who hides under beds. You are not worthy of such a beautiful body. She's never coming back." _The shadows on the walls screamed out, taunting him. _"She only did it because she feels sorry for you. I can see it in her eyes. She laughs at your loneliness with that boy. Jack Frost."_

"Jack Frost…" he hissed. Pitch had asked him to join his side years ago, demonstrating that their joined forces of Dark and Cold would conquer everything. They would be believed in, be feared. They would rule this terrible world together as kings…as…friends.

"_Yes…him. Even that pathetic excuse for a guardian wanted nothing to do with you. You saw her fears, Pitch. Her fears of losing __him__, losing __his__ smile, losing __his__ eyes. She loves __him__. Not you. She could never love you. She never will. You were born alone. You will die alone. With only the pity of some whore to comfort yo-"_

"SHUT UP!" he cried out, swinging his scythe into the wall, taking a giant chunk out of it. The voices of his fear, his fear of losing Cupid ceased. Panting, Pitch collapsed onto the floor next to the rubble. He was better than this, stronger than this. Clutching his right wrist, he reminded himself that Cupid chose to give him her body, her natural body. He didn't force her, he knew that and deep down his fears knew it too. He was just weak. She would come back. She's always came back. Every night for twelve years, she was there. One night of sex wouldn't change anything between them, she would be back for more. That he was sure of.

* * *

"Look who finally decides to arrive." An over the top Russian voice bellowed joyfully as the guardian of love flew in through an open window.

"I'm sorry, North…I..uh, got distracted." She managed to force out before taking a seat next to Jack as he moved his staff out of the way. The amount of guilt she expected to feel as soon as she saw their faces was oddly non-existent. Maybe she had just overthought the whole thing. Maybe there really was nothing to worry about. Like Pitch said, her fears were strictly hypothetical. They didn't know. They didn't have to know. It didn't have to be broadcasted. Life could continue on the way it normally would. Her and Pitch could enjoy their usual company and her relationship with Jack could remain the same. She could protect the children, protect the idea of love, and protect her friends. The best of both worlds, Light and Dark. Together.

"Thanks for saving my seat." she complimented, folding in her wings before straightening down her dress.

"New outfit?" he questioned, examining her head to toe. There was different about Cupid today. Her hair was messier than usual, as if she had sweating. Maybe she actually went out into the field for once. Her dress was wrinkled and just looked different, maybe she bleached it? Or made it wider? He couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"W-what?" she stuttered, completely caught off guard and slightly terrified from his odd statement. Were there holes? Claw marks? She blushed as she tried to remember what was happening right before Pitch removed her dress… the way his mouth felt against her chest before he used his teeth to…

"My ribbon! I must have lost it…while…flying." Cupid avoided Jack's eyes as he chuckled and placed one of his cold hands on top of her shoulder. Even though she usually complained about him teasing her with that freezing touch of his, Cupid felt her mind drifting back to black silk sheets and how her body felt against them.

"Well, you look as beautiful as ever." He admitted and watched as she tucked a curl behind her ear, smiling slightly before she glanced back at him, still blushing.

"Crikey, all that flirting…Do we have to watch this, North?" Bunnymund pleaded with his thick Australian accent to the jolly bearded man, who was clearly enjoying the show between the love-struck guardians; of course feeling partially responsible for bringing them together. Jack released his hand from her shoulder as she scooted a few inches away from him, trying to hide her bright red face from embarrassment with her long hair.

"I think it's adorable!" Tooth squealed, fluttering out of her chair. "With their little endorphins and hormones all over the place!" Her fairies formed a heart next to her, Baby Tooth sighing in romantic envy. Sandy dreamed a tiny gold heart above his head with 'J+C' etched onto it. The Easter Bunny rolled his eyes at all the nonsense, obviously irritated with not only the encouraged flirting but also the amount of time they had already wasted when they each had work to do.

"What's this about, North?" he demanded harshly, redirecting everyone's focus on the actual reason as to why they were there. North turned his head towards Bunnymund, secretly appreciative for his friend's strong senses of leadership and responsibility.

"My fellow guardians, I'm afraid something terrible has been brought to my attention." His tone changed dramatically, indicating how serious he really was. He brought his hand to his brow, clearly trying to find the right words to say.

"North…" Bunnymund observed his friends hesitance, becoming very alarmed.

"Is it Pitch?" Jack demanded angrily, slamming his staff to the ground as he stood up from his chair. "The coward wants another round?" Bunnymund nodded his head in approval towards Jack, ready to fight the monster if North gave the command right then and there.

'_Oh no…'_ Cupid's insides felt like a ticking time bomb, her anxiety shooting up like a rocket to the Man in the Moon. What was wrongly interpreted as fear from the others, she grabbed the base of her neck and tucked her head towards her thighs, silently berating herself for being discovered so easily. _'You are fool, Cupid. You couldn't have just walked away…you had to be impulsive and kiss him…'_

"No!" Tooth cried out. Her fairies hiding behind her in terror, all of thinking about those terrible cages…all the nightmares. "There's no way he's that powerful already…" she continued before she released a sob just thinking about not being believed in again. "He can't be…"

Cupid quickly lost control and began to sob much heavier than that of her winged friend. Her own wings wrapped themselves around her like a shield just milliseconds before Jack's comforting arms could. Her hands left her neck and relocated themselves in front of her face. Tooth was right; he was too weak right now. He could stand up against them for maybe a few minutes before becoming completely defenseless and she couldn't even protect him after that point, not before betraying her friends…her best friend. She would be forced to fight Jack…to attack him...to harm him….protecting the Boogieman of all freaking things. She felt her stomach coming up her throat when the thought of even harming Baby Tooth ran across her mind. Then she saw it, the bodies of her friends and her lover littered across the dark palace, with her standing alone above them. The lifeless gray in Jack's brilliant icy blues and Pitch's eclipsed suns turning black forever.

They were going to kill each other and it was all her fault…

She gripped onto her stomach with enough force to break the skin.

'_I'm so sorry, Darling…'_

* * *

Wow, that escalated quickly! What is going on that's got everyone in a panic? Is Pitch really out for revenge or is Cupid overthinking again? Is regret on the horizon for our guardian? Stay Tuned for more!


	3. Sunshine & Shadow

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or Rise of the Guardians in general. Wish I did though…*sigh*Enjoy fellow readers and writers! :)

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Sunshine & Shadow**

"_Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow." -Helen Keller_

* * *

The sun had never been brighter, the sky never bluer, and the ocean never clearer. The clouds hovered over the endless border on the horizon, keeping their distance from the sandy shores in exchange for a beautiful view. The pearly white sands glittered in the sunbeams, only disturbed by the elegant crashing of the ocean waves. A light, warm breeze danced around the area, giving movement to the towering palm trees. If an innocent child happened to notice what appeared to be Jack Frost and an Angel resting on this beach like ordinary people, they would have alerted their parents, begging them to stop and stare at the unusual sight. Their parents, with their personal beliefs about mystical creatures deceased, would have laughed and urged the child to keep walking and they would listen. Questioning their own eyes, wondering if what they had seen was really there.

It was.

Several yards from the water, the guardian of fun and the guardian of romance, laying inches apart from each other, stretched their bodies against the sand. Him on his back and her on her stomach. Basking in the warm sunlight, an activity Jack usually pushed to the bottom of his list of relaxing things to do, he glanced over to his best friend on his left and smiled. Her eyes closed and her face plastered with simple grin, she was daydreaming. Jack wanted to focus on the beach, on the view, on the fact that he had just been granted the entire summer off and how he planned to spend every minute of it with her, but his mind roamed into desired territory. Her swimsuit was white, tight, and split into two halves, revealing much more of her porcelain skin than Jack had ever seen. His mind began to fabricate images of her that he couldn't object to…. he didn't want to object to. He could only imagine what it would feel like if his freezing lips touched her sun kissed skin and that wasn't satisfying.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked absent-mindedly, taking a bite into a plumb dragon fruit.

"_Do you still want me?"_

"_Yes, Your Majesty."_

"Something dangerous." She replied, her smile curling up at the ends.

"Me too..." Jack shifted his gaze from Cupid towards the opposite direction. Tooth and her many fairies were building a heavily detailed sandcastle about a half mile away. Over the past century, he had never seen her have a day off from her demanding work load. Placing a seashell on top of her make believe palace, she spun around towards the sky, praising her little workers for their excellent teamwork. It was short-lived, however, when Bunnymund crashed into it at his full speed trying to catch the sandman. Sandy gained the upper hand, spinning himself into a tiny sand tornado, causing the Easter Bunny to dive head first into the refreshing water. Off into the distance, Jack could see the top of a blue snorkel, North was getting himself acquainted with the underwater life no doubt.

"Cupid…this may have been your best idea yet." He chuckled before briefly resting his hand on her shoulder, gripping it slightly. He was tempted, oh how he was tempted to just pull that thin white piece of fabric. Nervously, he began to fiddle with a small square object in the pocket of his swim trunks with his other hand..

* * *

Cupid had requested that the entire group go to Bermuda for the remainder of the day when North broke the "terrible" news that they had been working too hard. An observation made by the Man in the Moon himself. For all their hard work, he requested that they all take the summer off to relax, saying that he would take care of everyone's daily duties, much to the delight of the guardians… after they calmed down from taking their frustrations and hysterics out on North for strongly misleading them into believing that Pitch Black was terrorizing again.

"I never said it was Pitch, you just all assume it was!" He defended before releasing an unintentional giggle, gaining a sigh of relief from Tooth and Sandy and quite the shouts from Jack and Bunny.

Cupid was silent.

With her wings still shielding her, Cupid's tears changed from fear to delight. A small smile made its way onto her stained face.

He was safe.

Their secret was safe.

Additionally, she was rewarded with a Godsend; she could be with him all summer. All day and all night, intertwining her body with his, her moans clashing with his

'_Stop overthinking. Everything will be okay. They don't know. They will never know. How could they know? You don't want to alarm everyone .Just say something. Anything. Anything to get their mind off of Pitch. Some place fun. Some place warm.'_

"Bermuda!" she cried out.

* * *

She peaked open one violet eye, wondering how in the world she went so long without noticing how toned her pale-skinned companion was. After hundreds of years of just seeing that frost tipped blue hoodie, she naturally assumed that he, while slender, was just lean. Here he was, wearing only a pair of blue swim trunks, and she was pleasantly surprised to see a fit stomach and toned arms and legs. The sunlight bounced off his bleached hair, making it shine brighter than it usually did under the moonlight. His eyes looked as if they had stolen the color of the sky for themselves. And that smile…Tooth once confided in her that she thought Jack had the most gorgeous smile she had ever seen and Cupid wholeheartedly agreed, only because she had no one to compare it to.

Until last night.

If she had never met Pitch, she might have thought Jack Frost to be somewhat attractive right now.

'_Oh God, Cupid…better nip that thought in the bud…he's practically your brother! Ick! Change the subject! Change the subject! What was he saying? Something about a good idea you had?'_

"Is that a challenge, Jack?' she smirked, shifting her body weight on to her side, unintentionally giving him a full body view. Jack sat up and placed his hands in his lap, succeeding in hiding his erection as she lightly brushed some sand off her chest; her delicate fingers guiding themselves across the top of her breasts.

'_Keep it together, Jack...be patient.'_

"Well, we have all summer to do whatever we want! Oh! Let's mess with Uncle Sam! Make it a Fifth of July this year!" he playfully laughed, throwing fist fulls of sand into the air.

"Don't you think that one blizzard in July was enough? He still hasn't forgiven you for that…"

"Yeah…" he sighed, "That was great…um…Cupid?"

"Hmm?"

"Your scar….where- "

"I don't know." and that was all she said. Dismissing the question before it was asked. She knew Jack meant well, but after centuries of wondering herself and never getting an answer, it infuriated her when friends would ask time after time and Cupid could never provide an explanation. Tooth once said that all the guardians had a past life and that they must have done something miraculous in that life to be deemed a guardian in the next. So it was possible she had obtained this hideous mark on her stomach in her previous life right? Asking that question to Tooth, she received the answer that she always had to give when questioned herself.

"_I don't know."_

She didn't know.

And she greatly feared that she never would know.

Never know how she got this hideous mark on her stomach and her habit of constantly clutching it. Never know how why she was chosen to be a guardian.

And worst of all, never know why she felt this void, this emptiness she could remember since she first woke up. Something was missing. Something very near and dear to her heart. Something important that shouldn't have been forgotten. It felt there, it should be there, but it wasn't. A severed bond, a broken promise, a feeling she could taste right on the tip of her tongue and see right in front of her eyes but could never find the words to explain what it was. Throughout her countless lovers, no one was able to fulfill that emptiness. She inspired them, loved them, and made them believe in themselves to create passion, art, music, and love…all for naught. Changing her body at will, to become what they truly desire, trying to find that missing piece of herself…that emptiness, that void, that need to feel complete.

She never did.

She never knew.

And she hated herself for it.

Cupid rested her hand on top on Jack's, startling him slightly. She scooted herself over towards him, before resting her head on his shoulder. He drew a silent, but sharp breath from her sudden proximity. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer to him.

"I was talking about this new one…on your shoulder. I noticed this morning at the meeting and it..."

'_You idiot...'_

"Bat bite." She lied, controlling the urge not to blush when she remembered Pitch's teeth piercing her skin as his body rattled inside of hers, the pleasure that had consumed them both. She squirmed her exposed thighs together as her core began to warm from the excitement she was preparing herself for this evening. She wanted to go days without sunlight and the feeling to cold black silk sheets to become familiar.

"I hate flying at night." She grumbled, praying he'd believe her and drop the subject.

Two full minutes of silence passed between the companions, the waves keeping track of time like a ticking bomb; her head wanting to explode, his heart wanting to explode. Since the first moment he saw her, when she tripped over her own crossbow on the frozen lake…the very same frozen lake where he had awakened, his heartbeat had never gone back to its normal pace. It was bittersweet; the intense joy brought upon by her little quirks clashing with the eternal consequences if he were act on his true feelings right now.

"_If two immortal beings, guardians or not, make…a bond…together…they become bound to each other for eternity. Connected by their hearts until death of time. Becoming shield to each other's powers as well…and that, Jack…that is big responsibility."_ North's voice echoed in his mind, warning him to act on love and friendship, not lust and desire.

He loved her.

He loved the way she shielded herself with her wings when frightened.

He loved how she smiled.

How her eyes bore into his.

Her eagerness to join in on his pranks.

Her kindness.

Her selflessness.

He loved her with all of his heart.

And tonight would be the night.

"Jack…is it worth it? When you find your center?" Cupid whispered as a tear fell onto Jack's bare chest, freezing on impact.

"Yes." He whispered back, clutching her hand tightly. "Speaking of…" he started to say before catching her completely off guard by picking her up bridal style. "Isn't that why we are here?!" he laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Cupid nudged her head against his tenderly, crystal blues bearing into bright violets.

"Thanks, Jack...I overthi-"

"Race you to the ocean!" he interrupted playfully and then he tossed her in the air before commanding a breeze to fly him. Cupid released her wings, giving her a greater advantage than that of her best friend. She flew up behind him and pushed his head down, forcing Jack's face plant into the sand at full force before she elegantly dove into water. They continued this way for several hours with the other guardians soon joining them. A game of chicken was soon instigated from North, with Tooth on top of Bunnymund challenging her fellow gal pal sitting on top of Jack. Both young women used their wings as shields to make up for their lack of physical strength, which was ultimately the deciding factor ending with E. Aster leading himself and his partner to victory. Tooth claimed another victory in a sand building contest, although it was neck and neck to Sandy. Cupid reigned victorious against the others during an archery competition while Frost used the wind to catch dozens of fish for North's enormous appetite.

The waves crashed, the clouds parted, and the sun dimmed, filling the skies with violent reds, oranges, and purples. Within the dying daylight hours, the guardians sat circled around a fire pit, all babbling amongst themselves about their summer plans. Cupid laid on her back, pretending to count the layers of colors swirling above her as she successfully blocked out every part of her friend's conversations, truly not caring about their own personal methods of relaxation. The anticipation of her evening with Pitch began to excite her. Their past "dates" were always looked forward to because of the adrenaline birthed for the words "forbidden" and "dangerous" but last night…oh last night…that was pure adrenaline birth from passion, pleasure, and heat. Not words. She wanted more.

She needed more.

She needed his hands against her skin while hers roamed his hair. To feel him move inside of her once more. To hear his voice echo off the cold stone of his walls as she cried out his name in pleasure. Her hips grinding against his in angst, a competition. To feel those cold lips explore parts of her body he neglected as her tongue tasted different areas of his body. Cupid didn't want to see sunlight, or clouds, or the ocean for the rest of the summer. She wanted cold stone walls, cool black sheets, and swinging cages. To scream, cry, and moan. To explore, create, and break down. To be selfish, greedy, and passionate.

To be…believed in.

For the past twelve years, she had always arrived when the last color faded to black. Not a second before or after.

Every night for twelve years.

If she was early, just once, how would he react? Maybe ravage her from head to toe from the unexpected delight or wonderfully punish for going against their arranged schedule. She had to know.

She had to have him.

Right now.

"Hey guys, I think I'm going to take off before it gets too dark. I.."

"Hate flying at night." They all chimed in at the same time, after hearing the same reason for the past twelve years, it had become routine.

"Right...um...well…see you guys around. Thanks for the lovely afternoon...it was…uh…fantastic!" She was too eager.

'_Calm down. Now.'_

"Nonsense, Thank You Cupid. Your idea." North shouted across the flames. Bunnymund nodded his head towards her in appreciation, his mouth currently stuffed with bits and pieces of random tropical fruit.

"Bye, hun! We'll see you tomorrow!" Tooth shouted out, waving her hand frantically.

"Yeah. Maybe." Cupid shyly replied, not planning on leaving Pitch's bed anytime soon.

'_Smooth, Idiot.'_

"Cupid! Wait!" Jack shouted standing up and grabbing her hand with such a fast grip, something had to be wrong.

"Yes, Jack?" she replied, masking her impatience for slight concern.

"I have a gift for you…"

"_May I give you a parting gift?"_

Silence.

"Cupid?"

"What? Huh?" she stuttered, reluctantly leaving a beautiful memory for a reality that just wasn't good enough. Jack stood close to her and pulled something out of the pocket of his trunks. His hand extended out with a tiny pink square box resting in its palm. "Jack, um, you didn't have to-." She started to say.

"Cupid…" he interrupted nervously before opening the box himself, presenting a single pearl to the guardian of romance. It was blue, clearly frozen from the inside out, attached to a thin silver chain that glittered in the sunlight. It matched his eyes perfectly, those flawless crystal eyes that just a few hours ago, she feared she might never see again.

"Jack…it's…" She was speechless, more from the sudden surprise of the gift than the actual necklace itself. Occasionally, Jack would give her a bouquet of flowers or maybe a small jar of sweets before asking her to cause mischief with him, but this…this was different. It was handmade…personal…

"Beautiful..."

"Turn around." He gently requested and she did. His cold fingers danced along her collarbone as it were the very flames twirling just feet away from them. Cupid closed her eyes slowly and tilted her head back. Her mind racing with thoughts of Pitch, how his fingers felt against her shoulders when he exposed her chest to his eyes for the rest time. When Jack snapped the clasp, he carefully pushed on her sun kissed shoulders, turning her back to face him. Cupid opened her eyes, expecting…wanting…to see those mesmerizing eclipsed suns staring back at her. Her face noticeably fell when she was met with kind, but platonic blues instead.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I…I love it. I'm just tired...that's all."

"Would you like me to escort you home?"

"No!" she shouted, louder than she wanted to sound, gaining the sharp attention of the other guardians. "No…I mean…I'll be okay, Jack… Thanks for offering though."

"Alright. See you tomorrow." He sounded disappointed.

Tucking her head down from the slight guilt of knowing she wouldn't, Cupid silently turned away from him and the rest of her colleagues and flew up into the clouds, disappearing completely after a few seconds.

"Mate…" Bunnymund began to say to Jack as he sat back down next to the fire, his head tilted down from embarrassment. "If I'm not mistaken, you were supposed to get down on one knee…"

* * *

Muhahaha! Now that summer is here without a single work day, what's in store for Cupid and Pitch? Lots of steamy summer loving, perhaps? School starts tomorrow, but I'll update soon. Please R& R! :)


	4. Heat

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I'm currently in school getting my Doctorate, on top of being a single mom to a sweet, but hyper, 10 month old. So, time isn't on my side. Thank you for your patience.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or Rise of the Guardians. But I do own my interpretation of Cupid and her backstoryness.

* * *

**Speaking of! I need a last name for our Guardian of Romance! Everyone has a last name (Black, Frost, Bunnymund, North…etc) So, I need one for Cupid! Please send your suggestions via review or personal message. Either way works! You may submit as many surnames as you want, as long as they're creative. I'll only pick one, but my top 3 favorite suggestions from different people will each be rewarded with a special story surprise! Yay! (I trust that you won't spoil it for others.) Good Luck, Guys! The Winner will be announced May 1****st****!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Heat**

"_Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too. So I stayed in the darkness with you." –Florence + The Machine_

* * *

"You came back…"

That was all Pitch could muster before his lips hungrily devoured hers, depriving her of any response. He tasted of desperation and impatience. His hands cradled the back of her head, her blonde messy curls dancing on top of his fingertips. Cupid could only stare at his face as his lips locked onto hers, slightly sucking them very slowly. His eyes were tightly shut as if he were kissing his very lifeline. She felt her body become paralyzed as Pitch gently leaned himself into her, deepening the kiss and couldn't tell if her heart had stopped beating all together or if it was beating so fast she just couldn't feel it. Her arms remained stiff and laid awkwardly by her sides. She wanted to feel him, to hold him, to touch him, but all she could feel was his mouth clinging to hers. Cupid had been missed greatly by the King of Nightmares, and although he would never admit it, he could express it in the only way he knew how

The fear of losing Cupid grew stronger alongside an intense loneliness that had consumed him every second since the very second she disappeared from his view earlier that morning. He had hoped, practically prayed that she would come back; finding the sunlight and the guardians suddenly beneath her already incredibly low standards of company.

"_You came back…"_

Pitch slowly retracted his lips, releasing a hard breath at the same time as his companion. His eyes remained shut, closing off a beautiful reality in case it was actually an illusion created by his newest fear. In case she wasn't really there.

In case she really hadn't come back.

With his hands still buried in her mass of hair, he pulled her head forward, bringing her nose to push against his as their foreheads touched. Pitch trembled slightly, preparing himself for the high chance that she wasn't right in front of him.

Cupid looked into Pitch's eyes, those incredible eclipsed eyes that were always so intense, and witnessed in bewilderment as they became soft...almost dreamlike. She tensed her body tightly as his lips slowed grazed upwards and pressed themselves against her forehead. He released another deep breath that carried the heavy weight of anticipation mixed with the soft release of relief. Pitch lowered his hands and wrapped them around her exposed waist. Gently tugging her closer to him, he placed a small peck on her temple. She was here. She had come back. Completely on her own.

To be with him.

This was real.

"Is everything alright?" Cupid whispered with a slight nervousness in her voice, highly confused by his suddenly sweet…but incredibly odd behavior. "Bad dream?" she teased, finally returning his embrace

'_You could say that...'_

"Cheeky girl…" Pitch exhaled as he slowly stroked the skin against her spine. "Change in the uniform?" he lightly chuckled, masking his discontent that she had been working all day in such little of clothing. It wasn't the humans he was concerned about. It was the dull blues filled with lust towards the guardian of romance.

"No…" she joked, playfully patting his shoulder. "I get the whole summer off…we all do. So, I…suggested…that we go to the beach for the day."

"Oh? Is that how you want to spend your summer? Out in the sun, with your friends?" he remarked condescendingly, slightly offended that Jack got to see so much of her for long and him so little.

Cupid's breathing hardened as she foolishly tried to ignore the lust that took over her body when Pitch's fingers brushed themselves against the tiny knot that held her bikini top to her sun kissed skin. She couldn't ignore it. Raw, sexual heat flooded through her body, her insides burning for his touch. Cupid was free from guilt and free from work and alone with Pitch. Her light violet eyes darkened to a mountain purple as she realized her lust, her heat, her desire to have sex with the Nightmare King once more.

"I don't want to see the light of day…"

Shamelessly, she anchored her hands at the base of his neck and pulled the very hardest she could.

Pitch ravaged her lips, kissing him, licking them, tasting them as it were an antidote. They felt like rosebuds, clutching and sucking his lips without showing any signs of stopping. Growling into her mouth, turned on by her sudden aggressiveness, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her into the marble wall behind them just inches away where his scythe had make its mark earlier that day. Trapping her between himself and the cold stone, his fingertips danced along her ribcage. He wanted to touch her, to feel her porcelain skin against his...she was wearing so little and it clung to her body so tightly. It would take minimum effort to remove it, granting him her naked body once more. But he didn't want to leave her mouth, her chocolate flavored tongue had forced its way past his thin lips and was fighting for control against his own tongue. She was frantic, tasting him as much as she physically could, all the while grinding her hips against his core. Her hands opened the exposed part of his robe, and feverishly claimed his torso with her hands.

He cupped her barely covered breasts and squeezed so roughly that she was forced to abandon his mouth to release her own sounds of pleasure.

"Oh, that feels so good." She moaned, arching her back against the marble. "Ohh…" her hands reluctantly left his chest and placed themselves on top of his, assisting him with pleasuring herself, gripping and squeezing her own breasts.

"You naughty girl…" he panted into her neck

"Oh, Your Majesty…Are you going to punish me?" she snickered.

He instantly vanished his pants and without asking her permission, turned her body around so her stomach was against the wall. He ran his fingers down her back before pulling the two knots that kept her bikini top composed. Squeezing the flesh of her breasts as he buried his face into that beautiful mess of curl, Cupid's hands reached back and pulled his naked waist towards her backside, debating whether or not to move the bottom half of her swimsuit herself. She needed him. Right here. Right now. She backed her hips into his exposed core slowly, panting heavily as she did so.

He was failing miserably at trying to ignore the intense pleasure that consumed him as her bottom grinding against his shaft mixed with the sounds protruding from her mouth. She was ready for him, but something was holding him back. His mind became filled with hundreds of reasons, ideas, and excuses…why was she here? Why did she come back? A pity fuck? Because it had become routine for them? Because maybe she actually wanted to be with him. But why? He had no power, no strength, nothing to glorify his name. But she was here. Despite him being reduced to just simply hiding under beds. She was here.

Why?

As if she could read his thoughts at that very moment, she moaned a soft "I want you…"

"Tell me again." He pleaded before lightly kissing her shoulder, his hands still feverishly attending to her perfect breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples. She felt so good, she was perfect…so beautiful…

"Pitch…oh…I want you. I want you so bad." She huffed between ragged breaths. The dry grinding felt wonderful but it wasn't enough to satisfy her. She needed him, all of him.

The Nightmare King delicately removed the tight, white fabric from her lower half, his slender fingers electrifying her skin. Cupid growled lowly from excitement, spreading her legs and leaning into the wall ever so slightly. The tip of his penis throbbed from the heat of her opening. She was so warm…so wet. All for him.

"You're so wet…" he whimpered. "I'm going to fuck you so hard…" Pitch gently kissed the side of her face as his hands left her breasts and guided themselves to her hips, slightly swaying them deeper into his core.

Cupid gasped from the lack of the gentleness as he mounted her from behind. Her tight walls stretched to fit him, forgetting how big he actually was. A sense of weakness overtook her when her eyes began to water from her core being stretched to its limit. He must have held back last night, he must have… that or he had complete physical manipulation over his body, just like her. Pitch groaned into her ear as her incredible tightness wrapped itself around him once more. She was so wet, so warm, so tight. He wanted to ride her so hard and so rough. She would cry, she would scream his name out in pleasure.

"You feel so good, Darling…" she muttered between her clenched teeth. "Ride me…please."

That was the final push for him. His deep throated pants danced with her mews as he started pumping into her core at a very fast pace. There would be no escalation to pleasure, no anticipation, no build up, just raw, heated fucking at its most primal form. Cupid let a deep growl escape her heart shaped lips, the uncomfortable pain had quickly transitioned into an undeniable bliss that rattled throughout her entire core. His hot touch, His rhythm, the way his body fit into hers and how her body responded to him…he was perfect and he felt so good. Pitch grabbed onto her bouncing breasts, giving them the attention they deserved. Pressing his mouth against the side of her face, his thumbs delicately pinched and flicked her nipples as he continued thrusting into her from behind.

"Ohh, ooh…so…tight…" he panted into her ear, squeezing her breasts harder when her own hands once again covered his, encouraging him to continue.

"So good…" she moaned, squeezing her hands on top his hands.

"Say it again…"

"You feel so good, Pitch..." She reached behind her to hold on to his neck as his speed became rigid.

The Boogieman gently pressed his lips against her cheek as she gripped tighter around his cock. Against his wishes, one of his hands left her breast and latched itself onto her thigh, spreading her legs so he could thrust into her deepest point.

"Pitch!...oh…oh my God!" she screamed out as he rode her. His other hand abandoned her chest and pressed itself against her spine, pushing her forward. "Don't stop," her fingers began to claw into the wall as she was fucked against it. "Please…don't stop… don't stop…"

He buried his face into her blonde mass, heavily inhaling her curls, grinning as he heard Cupid cry out for him. Her voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings, echoing through his entire palace. Not a single silent room. He knew from their previous experience last night that she was loud, but he couldn't bring himself to care in the slightest. He wanted more, no…he needed more. His hand relocated under her thigh and raised it up into the air, widening the entrance to her core to its full physical capacity.

Cupid screamed in bewilderment as her King slid his entire length inside of her, granting him a speed that had been previously inaccessible. Pitch grabbed a fist full of her hair, giving her no time to adjust to him before his hips returned to fucking her fiercely. His thrusts became frantic and reckless as he grunted into her hair. He was like an animal, riding her out of pure instinct and passion.

She loved it.

"Just…like…that…" she managed to pant in between breaths. A sense of euphoria began to claim her mind, blocking all sense of right and wrong. She had kissed him first…again…She had initiated this, again. And right now, she didn't care. It felt too good to care. She had faced her fears, seeing Jack after a night with Pitch and it had gone surprisingly too well. And now she had the entire summer with her King. She didn't to see the sun, today being the only exception…and it was strictly out of his protection.

He was so close to his limit. He could feel it. He needed to release himself when he felt her grip start to tighten around him like a vice. Her body began to violent shake when he hit her g-spot just right. Cupid growled when he pulled her back against his chest by her hair, but it soon passed and she began to mew for him, signaling her oncoming orgasm. He crashed his thighs against hers, ignoring the unpleasant sound of skin flapping against skin, as his bared his pointed teeth, grunting from the deepest part of his throat.

"Almost there…I'm gonna..I'm gonna come…oh God…Pitch…I…I…" she screamed out.

"Oh…ohh…fuck…go…come…oh…" he cried out alongside her, wanting her to release herself so he could finish. He couldn't do it without her. He would never let her win. Never.

Cupid felt it; she trembled when the pleasure came to its highest point and overflowed her core, when her second orgasm with the King of Fear flooded through her body like blood. It was…fantastic. Squeezing her violet eyes shut, she constricted even tighter around Pitch, shaking slightly from the force of her wonderful satisfaction. He furiously continued to ride her like a helpless animal until he felt his own release, his hot seed spilling into her. He was tempted to mark her skin again, to make another tally on his beautiful prize, but resisted when he saw the scar of previous victory and how painful it must it have been when he gave it to her.

And how she never once complained about it.

Releasing her hair from his clench and himself from her body, Pitch grazed his thumb over the mark before bringing his lips to it, deciding that a simple kiss would have to do until he could figure out another way to keep score. She had come back. To his palace, his lonely and cold kingdom of darkness after spending all day in the warm sunlight with her companions. And of her own free will. It was her choice to be with him. Pitch couldn't explain how it happened but this very moment…right now…would haunt him for the remainder of the summer. It was an intense feeling, much stronger than the one he had experienced the night before. More powerful than his already intense fear of losing her and it overwhelmed his entire being with its numbing warmth. So strong, so powerful, and so overwhelming, that it forced a small tear to escape from his right eye. Since the beginning of his existence, the Boogieman had never cried before. Not even when he casted back in the shadows during the dark ages, not when he was rejected by Jack Frost when he offered to be his companion, and not even he was reduced to nothing when his own fears consumed him. But this, being with her, realizing that she was here simply to be with him…pity fuck or not…had finally broken a piece of him. A piece that after thousands of years, he was convinced was indestructible. But this girl…woman, this short, blonde, incredibly daft, but incredibly clever…beautiful woman…guardian had made a crack in his shield.

"_Has the Whore softened your heart?"_ The shadows teased from the dangling cages, laughing at their master's sudden weakness for the naked woman panting against his wall.

Cupid was at a loss for breath; her legs wobbling from the intensity of their aftermath. "That was…" was all she could force out before releasing a stream of childish giggles. "Oh…Pitch…you…ha…that…ama….haha…zing...teeheehe…" she wheezed before falling backwards into his open arms, slightly disappointed that her skin came into contact so quickly with his dark clothing rather than the anticipated cool touch of his chest. Cupid turned herself around, coming down from her own euphoric high, she dreamily gazed into the beautiful golden suns of her wonderful nightmare through heavy eye lids before pecking the tip of his nose, a tradition he was beginning to hope would eventually become routine.

He wrapped himself around her like a child would its most precious toy before bringing his cold lips to her mouth with a slow, soft, romantic kiss.

"Stay…with me…" he softly pleaded into her mouth, sounding like he was on the brink of breaking down.

"Of course, Darling…" she beamed into his lips, her own curling up into a grin, thanking the moon and stars that she wouldn't have to ask him herself. Pitch's fingers danced up her neck and dove into her hair. Wanting to count each and every curl for himself, wanting to know the approximate number before the crisp autumn air returned and she would be forced out of his sight for hours at a time. Before he would have to go back to counting the seconds til her arrival…if she came back…

Then he felt it.

Something different.

Something tiny and made of metal wrapped around the base of her neck, buried at the very bottom of her deep curls. After hundreds of years memorizing this body, this perfect body, the way it moved, the way it shifted and the way she presented herself. She never wore jewelry. Never.

But he felt it.

He traced his fingers down the steel links as if they were a cold flame. This wasn't from him and she never wore jewelry. She would never go out of her way to make something so petty for herself. And even if she did, she would never wear it. Cupid, the guardian of love and romance…did…not..wear…jewelry.

The tiniest needle of jealously speared through his heart when his slender fingers collided with each other at the center of the chain. He didn't need to see the pendant, he could feel it. He could feel the frozen center and it burned the very tips of his fingers. He didn't have to ask who it came from. His lonely mind immediately became overwhelmed with images, dark images, of Jack's fingers coming into contact with her neck, her body. That perfect, flawless body. Pitch had taken the time to memorize that body and Frost, the spoiled brat, had touched it, dirtied it, and attempted to claim it as his own with this hideous collar just hours after the King himself has made his permanent mark on his prize.

"_Imagine it, Master…Just imagine what she did to him to earn such a trophy. She must have fucked him real good…she must have…remember…she arrived here wearing that skimpy suit…he saw her all day today…all of her…and she never bothered to tell you about this…Your parting gift wasn't enough for the whore. How many other trophies is she carrying around without your knowledge? Why would she accept it? WHY did she take it mere hours after you gave her something?"_

Impulsively and disregarding the consequences…wanting nothing more than to silence the shadows and the fears, to ultimately show Jack who Cupid belonged to, becoming overwhelmed with anger and jealously…Pitch's fingers gripped onto that delicate chain and pulled…hard…

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**OH NO! Will their summer romance be doomed just seconds after it began? What's going to happen!?**

**I'll be updating soon. Thank you all for your generous patience.**

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**Don't forget about the Cupid Contest! I'll choose the winner May 1****st**** so please send as many suggestions as you want, no name too silly or weird! My top 3 favorites get a special story surprise and you never know what it could be! **** Happy Late Easter and Happy April Fool's **


	5. The Impulsive Beacon

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or Rise of the Guardian, but the version of Cupid is mine.

A/N: Aww, You guys are so sweet with such kind words and encouragement, it's making me blush! But in all seriousness, thank you for much. I really had idea that this story would take off!

I hated writing this chapter. It took several hours to write just a few sentences and I'm still not completely happy with it. I hate writing people fighting but I hate writing people who don't fight even more. This chapter is very necessary in terms of their relationship.

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**Friendly Reminder, Please send in your suggestions for Cupid's last name! I've already received several good ones, but more are always welcomed! You may send your ideas via review or personal message. No name too silly or too weird, I just ask for creativity. (No Cupid St. Valentine k?) Only one name will be chosen, but the writers of my top three favorite suggestions will each receive a story secret, that will not be revealed to the rest of you until many many chapters from now. Good Luck!**

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**Chapter Four**

**The Impulsive Beacon**

"_It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness." – Eleanor Roosevelt._

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The unmistakable, penetrating sound of skin impacting skin ricocheted off the marble walls of the Boogieman's lair. It was a solid, forceful, and surprising painful slap. Had it been the hand of anyone else….anyone other than the beautiful young woman he had just made love to, Pitch Black would have killed them without a second thought. He should have been furious with her, enraged beyond belief that she had the nerve to strike him over a disgusting and now broken collar. Years prior to Cupid becoming recruited as a God forsaken guardian, there had been only one woman to ever hit him. And being the coward she truly was, Tooth punched him when he was at his weakest, his defenses completely down. Cupid had not. Granted he was not as strong as he used to be, but he was in no way outnumbered and fearful for his own life. He could have struck her back, overpowered her, and in the end, killed her.

He could have.

When the metal chain snapped and the frozen pearl shattered against the stone floor, the Guardian of Romance had forcefully pushed him away from her mouth before raising her right hand to his face. She didn't think about it, and she didn't fear the consequences of her actions. She stood her ground, something she wasn't particularly known for in the past. Impressed, Pitch grinned menacing at the still naked young lady. For the first time in a very long time, outside of her newest sex life, she had been passionate; a trait that, from his own observation, had been missing from her life for the last twenty years or so.

Silence.

Silence.

And then he laughed.

It wasn't a chuckle and it wasn't that amusing, beautiful laugh she was begging to hear just one more time. It was a cold, cruel sound birthed from the deepest and darkest part of his mind. That part of him she was always wary of… a side that, even after twelve years, remained unfamiliar and dangerous by assumption. There were reasons…clear reasons that Pitch was and always would be the biggest threat to her and the rest of the guardians. She heard the story shorted after she was recruited, about all the lights going out…and the nightmares…and how he almost won but ultimately defeated by his own fears. This was the same Boogieman and the same King she had just given herself to willingly…again.

"Finally!" he shouted sarcastically, taking one step back from her. "There's that old spark… I was almost convinced you had gone completely soft!"

"I'd rather be soft than jealous…" she shot back unexpectedly. As much as he wanted it, craved it even, she was not scared of him and she would not let herself be for his sick personal amusement. That fear disappeared the night before, when she had sex with him for the very first time… when she saw how truly vulnerable he really was. He was lonely and had been for some time, but regardless, his behavior was inexcusable. Cupid was not afraid to call him out. He did what he did out of pure, juvenile jealously and he was failing at trying to mask it as anything else.

"That is a childish assumption!" Pitch roared, angrily offended that she not only had the nerve to strike him but also had gone out of her to way to insult him.

"Exactly…"

"You dare mock a King in his kingdom?!"

"If that King insists on behaving like a child in my presence…Yes."

That fear of losing her, the warm numbness that overwhelmed him when she kissed the tip of his nose, and that desire to protect her from any harm was gone. And in its place, pure wrath. That terrible, suspicious laugh returned as he slowly turned his back on her and Cupid knew that this time he wasn't just masking his jealously. There was anger, rage, and impatience brewing...and they were all blinding him. At this split second, he wanted nothing more than to cut the life from her throat, lover or not. No one talked down to him like that.

No one.

With a speed faster than a single human heartbeat, Pitch generated his metal scythe from midair and shamelessly swung it towards the guardian, not seeing her as the beautiful woman he made love twice in the past day but as the woman who would leave him…cast him back into the lonely, cold darkness…as the woman who would ultimately choose that damn Jack Frost over him…and as the whore his fears and shadows were claiming her to be...

He wanted that woman to vanish from his sight completely.

Before Cupid could even manage to catch her breath, before she could even think about dressing herself in the proper attire, she withdrew her crossbow by the bow, using it as a shield against the dark steel rod just seconds before the sharp blade on the end of it would have scarred the perfect, porcelain skin on her face.

"Oh, there's an antique!" he taunted mercilessly, pushing harder down on extended handle, attempting to snap that disgusting pink, pathetic excuse for a weapon in half. But even with all of his strength, he couldn't break it…there was something...something much stronger than himself was preventing him from reaching that point. It was a force he had never experienced before, it was so strong…so overwhelming…so unknown that it struck a small fear into his core, but he disguised his face from showing the slightest bit of concern so she couldn't even make an assumption that he was weak. Why couldn't he just hurt her? Why couldn't he just push down a little bit harder, snapping her delicate shield like a twig? Why was this so difficult? What was this God damn force holding him back?

"Stop this, Pitch!" she desperately cried out as her knees began to buckle beneath her. Cupid would never consider herself weak by any definition of the word but she was, however, completely aware that he was far stronger than her when it came to actual physical strength. Even with all her might attempting to push her weapon against his, he was overpowering her and he knew it. God knows how in the world her crossbow was remaining perfectly intact against a scythe, but she knew better than to question it. She had one shot…just one shot to remove her hands from the bow and place them on the trigger, it would require her dropping her weight to ground and pushing at lightning speed to dodge the frontal assault and if she wasn't fast enough, he would kill her instantly… But if she was, she would gain the upper hand.

One chance.

One single chance.

'_Go…'_

The next few moments flashed so quickly, that Cupid's adrenaline pumped brain could barely take it all in. Her knees unlocked at the exact moment he pushed down the hardest he could, causing her body to crumbled towards the marble floor just milliseconds before his. But she was fast, faster than him. She released her wings, catching her footing. Pitch wasn't so lucky. His jaw crashed into the stone at full force, his scythe thrown several feet away from the both of him. After releasing a string of curses in every single direction, Pitch reluctantly raised his head, his eclipsed eyes focusing on the pair of wide violets, standing above him with a pink crossbow pointed at his chest. Her hands were shaking slightly as her delicate fingers wrapped themselves around the trigger.

Silence.

Silence.

"Oh? Do I get the privilege of being your second shot?" he teased. "Seems fitting…since I was your first…" He knew he couldn't risk trying to overpower her, not with the tip of arrow just inches from touching his chest, but he could outsmart her. Blindside her, overwhelm her with emotions and thoughts just enough to distract her from impulsively pulling the trigger.

"Shut up…" she hissed nervously, very aware of his plan. Cupid knew, and he knew, that she had actually never used her weapon as a _weapon_ with the exception of an accidental shooting when she had first woken up. It was carried strictly for job related purposes; she would cast a spell on an arrow and strike an unsuspecting human she deemed worthy of romance. But here she was, pointing it at the man who just minutes ago had made love to her, trying to convince herself that she could do it…if she had to...she could do it.

"Don't you remember, Cupid?...It was the day we met…"

She did remember, alive for thousands of years and she never forgot that day. It was the first day of her life, her new life. Cupid could still recall the chilling breeze as it danced across her skin, the frozen block of ice against her back, and twinkling lights hanging miles above her eyes. There was a bed, a broken wooden bed a few yards away and a beautiful pair of curious golden eyes penetrating the darkness underneath it. The same eyes she was baring into right now. She couldn't do it…Not only because was it against her morals… but it was Pitch…her nightmare king…that man she been attracted to for so long…she could never hurt him…it was a sick joke that fate had cruelly played on the both of them.

Clutching her eyes shut, she internally admitted a reluctant defeat. Cupid lowered her head and lowered her weapon before vanishing it back into thin air.

"Just as I thought…" Pitch bragged as he stood up in victory. "You couldn't kill me even if you were forced to…"

She was not weak. She was not scared. "Apparently…neither could you…" she whispered under her breath, trying to remind the hypocrite that he couldn't even break a bow with a metal scythe.

"How dare you say such things to me!" he screamed with a penetrating force that rattled the cages as well as her heart. "You disrespectfully litt-"

"And how dare you destroy something so precious to me!" she interrupted with such a surprising rage of her own that Pitch himself was entirely taken back. He wanted to be further impressed by her finally sticking up for herself, that she even had the bravery to tell off the Boogieman...but his jealously was getting the best of him. Cupid was impulsive, yes, but she never acted on emotions such as fury or anger. It was entirely against her nature, she brought love, desire, attraction, and lust…but never rage…

"Frost is precious to you?!"

"Jack has nothing to do with this!"

"Of course he does, Cupid! Come back to reality. He never leaves your side. And if you're not in my presence, you are in his! How are you so oblivious? I bet any day now, the idiot will propose to you and it'll go right over your daft head.! Despite already receiving something from the man you fucked last night, you accepted a hideous gift from him. I was simply doing you a favor by removing it. So don't use that boy against me, no matter how "precious" he is to you!"

"You had no right! Jack has been my best friend for several years and if you'd just let go of that damn insecurity you carry, you'd see there could never be anything more! I'm not as daft as you believe me to be, but I suppose you can't see anything past your blinding jealously..."

Silence.

"I've never known true loneliness, so I'm sorry I can't even remotely relate to what you're feeling right now, but for God's sake, please…Pitch…l…just let me try…I've been here. Every night. Every. Single. Fucking. Night. For twelve years…even after we…last night…I'm here…standing right in front of you…right now!…and you have the nerve to believe...Do you have any idea what I'm risking…what I'm giving up just to be here…with you." she eyes began to cloud as her composure started to crumble right before his eyes. Upon forcing these words out of her mouth, saying them aloud, hearing them…That was the final breaking point before her lips began trembling as her breaths became frantic and uncontrollable. "Today…this morning…he wanted to…attack you…and I broke down…I was so scared…I couldn't…I wouldn't let him hurt you…I don't…so…I said…let's go to the God damn beach…but I wanted to leave, I thought of you the entire time…and now...this is what I get?! For protecting…you…coming…back to you….Jesus, Pitch…." She stared at him for a few seconds more and simply couldn't take it. She was going to cry, she was going to break down, and he was going to see. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. "You asked me if I loved him…If I felt anything towards him…and if not…to prove it…" Her throat began to constrict as those words disappeared into the empty air. She cursed herself when the tears finally broke the barrier, and when her bare legs began to shake. And there he was, her beautiful nightmare king, staring back at her because he didn't want to look anywhere else. And when Cupid spoke to him again, the words burst through his dark mind like the brightest beacon.

"Did last night mean nothing to you?"

He didn't reply to her. He couldn't… There were no words, no emotions, no response, just...

Silence.

Pitch Black was speechless, overwhelmed from the sudden surge of emotions, going from rage, jealously, and fury to pity, sadness, and…

Regret.

Damn this woman…

Of course last night meant something. It meant everything to him, that's why he was fighting for her in first place. She had given her entire body to him, willingly. He wanted her, all of her everyday…every night until the end of summer. He had been so alone for so long, wanting…longing for a companion…a family…and when finally given the chance to have one, he tried to kill her. What he now saw was no guardian, no savior. Cupid was now a completely defenseless naked woman, clutching her scarred stomach as she fell to the marble floor in heap of messy blonde curls and tear stained cheeks.

And it was entirely his fault.

Pitch's head felt like it would explode as he gripped his arms with frustration. He hated himself for what he had just done but it felt so much better to feel anger towards her. He wanted to stay mad at her, to not regret the anger, to not regret breaking that god damn piece of junk and to not regret releasing his weapon on her. She shouldn't have taken it that necklace, she shouldn't have accepted it. That gift came from the hands, the ice cold hands of another man, who just earlier that very same day would have provoked an attack, fought, and ultimately won against him if not for this…clever…beautiful woman. Jack would have not only shamed Pitch down further into the darkest depths of his own personal hell, but also would have claimed Cupid as his own. But those words, those seven words that must have crushed her heart as they left those perfect heart shaped lips, they brought him back to reality, to his senses. Staring at her now, He couldn't help but feel ashamed for his actions, but at the same time…he couldn't bring himself to admit it. Not directly to her anyways. He was not weak, and he would never let this…guardian...ever assume that he was. There was only one way he knew how to express himself when it came to Cupid…and it wasn't apologizing.

Silence.

"_Stay…with me…"_

Please.

'_Don't go…'_

Pitch suddenly reached out towards her, desperately wanting to take her hand, desperately desiring to pull her naked body back into his arms. To redeem himself the only way he knew he could. For a brief moment, he thought she would come closer. But after a few long, silent seconds, he felt nothing. Nothing except the silent air as she walked past him, avoiding his eyes like her life depended on it.

He watched her go, watched her slowly vanish into the dark corridor that led to his bedroom, where just hours ago, he had made love to her for the very first time. He couldn't go to her because he couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle what he had just done…what he had just said…What there hadn't been a mysterious force holding him back…would he have have killed her...

It was regret that the Boogieman began to feel, for breaking something that clearly meant so much to her. He had acted on pure jealously, like a spoiled child not wanting to share his toy…his beautiful prize…and she remained unafraid of him at his very worst…and she was still here, despite all of…that…she was…still here. She could have left, finally having enough of his insecurities and gone back into the arms of that…boy…but she chose to stay…

He knew what he had to do to earn her forgiveness…and he hated it.

Silence.

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**Well…thank goodness that's over. Gah! I really really hated writing this chapter, It nearly had me in tears so many times, I'm don't want Cupid to a weak character but creating strong female characters and not making them bitches is sooooo hard to do. Again, Thank You all for your patience, I know I should update more often, but full time momma and full time doctorate student is pretty darn time consuming. **

**Don't forget to submit some creative last names for Cupid **** I'll pick the winner on May 1****st****!**

**Please R&R Lovelies 3**


	6. Armor & Shield

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or anything else from Dreamworks 'Rise of the Guardians', however this version of Cupid is mine.

A/N: Happy 1 month birthday to 'Fear and Love'! Woo! Thank You guys so much for all the kind words and encouragement as well as your patience, I appreciate more than you could possibly know. Thank you for giving this hectic/busy student momma a chance.

May 1st is coming up! Don't forget!

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**Chapter Five**

**Armor & Shield**

"_You'll never be alone. When darkness comes, I'll light the night with stars…" –Skillet._

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"_Oh Greed…Have you ever seen such a perfect body? I want her so bad…that toned stomach, those voluptuous curves, such ample breasts…I would fuck her so hard, ride her numb. God, I want her…so bad, right now, Can I have her? Please…I need her. I need her right now. Please…"_

"_Patience, Envy…you will have your chance, and then you can do to the whore whatever your sick heart desires…Master Pitch won't be able to resist us much longer. He almost killed her over a stupid pearl…"_

"_Because you almost convinced him that she had fucked Jack…So clever of you."_

"_He's a love-sick fool, terrified of losing the only companion he's ever had…and she's nothing but a worthless tramp. His heart is weakening and if we plant the seeds of jealously at the right place and right time…all it will take is a simple hug between her and Jack and then __we__ will be believed in…"_

"_and then I can have her, right? Fuck her until she bleeds, right? Make her feel like the whore she really is…my whore…"_

"_Yes, Envy…You can have her…and I will take everything else…"_

"_She is stronger than us, Greed…she-"_

"…_is not aware of that…better to keep it that way…"_

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"I'm…not worthy of you…" Pitch Black begrudgingly admitted before delicately tossing the repaired necklace on the bed. Approximately seven hours and forty three minutes had passed before one of them finally caved in and faced the other. And with Cupid's stubbornness going far beyond Pitch's patience, it had to be him. But this wasn't an apology, this wasn't groveling at her feet and begging for her forgiveness. It was simply him confessing how he felt like a complete and utter fool in just five short words. He had abandoned the thick armor that surrounded his heart as well as lowered the shield that held his pride together. Cupid peaked through the white feathers that were wrapped around her body and glanced towards the now black and blue pearl as it nested in the cold, silk sheets. It was different now because it had to be. Pitch had given his best effort in fixing it but could only incorporate his own personal touch when it came to simple repairs. It was the only way he knew. The crystal ice intertwining with the black sand had made the pearl's previous form look dull. While at first, it had only been 'beautiful'…now it was breathtaking. A work of art that perfectly reflected her cluttered mind and splitting heart. Her unethical and insatiable desire for her beautiful nightmare king versus the moral, yet surprisingly destructive friendship with Jack Frost. She wanted both, she needed both. But reality would never be so kind. If given the chance, they would kill each other without a second thought and Cupid began to wonder if she was really worth it. If, in fact, _she_ was worthy of him.

"Thank You…" she whispered with a soft sincerity in her tone.

She kept her eyes on the small item that had caused so much unnecessary friction between them, knowing he was slowly walking towards her but she couldn't bring herself to look up and face him or to even speak to him. She wasn't scared, just wary. She didn't want to fight with him again, not like that. She only wanted to feel his cool flesh, to hear the perfect rhythm of his heartbeat. That's all she wanted for the entirety of the summer. Had Cupid had known that such a delicate thing would have caused such a horrific start to their paradise, she wouldn't have worn it. Despite its beauty and symbolism, she hated it now. She hated what it had done to them, how it portrayed her as an inconsiderate child and how it managed to steal so many hours away from them. Hours spent pretending to be stubborn and patient just to prove a point and get him to admit his wrong doings. It wasn't worth it. Not at all. Cupid remained perfectly still, her wings retreating, her hands on her stomach and focusing her gaze on the swirling blues and blacks in the pearl until he was standing right next to the bed, inches away from her. Her anxious heart became frozen and had almost stopped beating entirely when she felt those cold, slender fingers of his twirling themselves in her hair.

Pitch roamed his hands up and down her curls, those long, beautiful, blonde curls that he very recently had become so smitten with. He adored the texture of her hair, the tight and tiny yellow spirals that stretched all the way down to the dimples on her lower back. He could only imagine how long her hair truly was when straightened, but theorized that it reached somewhere around her Achilles tendon. His mind became consumed of all the words, all the things he'd said to her…and cursed himself for lowering his mentality to such a shameful level. He could have killed her…he wanted to kill her. There were reasons, hundreds of reasons why she should have left. But she didn't. If she had, his only light…his only way out of the darkness would disappear.

Something gripped his arm while at the same time gripped his heart, it was painful and terribly intense, all because of this new found feeling of remorse and regret. He would have to be the one to amend this, because nor Pitch or Cupid could continue feeling like this for the rest of the summer. Pitch removed his hand from her mane as he sat down on the edge of bed. Sliding his arms around her waist, his fingertips basking in the softness of her dress, he buried his face in the crook of her neck because he just wanted to feel his flesh against hers. He needed her to comfort him, right here right now. He wanted to be vulnerable, to be empty…just this once, so she could fulfill him…make him better, believe in him.

Overwhelming emotions consumed them both, paralyzing them in this position. It was making her skin cringe. But putting discomfort aside, Cupid wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer to her, closing whatever space was left between them. Resting her head on his shoulder, she wanted to wonder how they could have said such terrible things to each other, why it had to escalate to the near breaking point. But holding him gave her a rare peace of mind, a beautiful distraction from her clouded thoughts. Pitch released a deep sigh, that unknown to her contained every single bit of pride the Boogieman had, as he gripped her waist with a slight force, he softly whispered two words into her ear. Two words that made her heart want to soar and completely killed any remaining tension she held against him.

"I'm sorry…"

And just like that, all the pain and all the regret vanished from their hearts.

He had never said that to anyone before, there was never a reason to. The closest he had ever come to was an incredibly sarcastic remark made towards Sandy and Jack all those years ago, when he was height of his power. But Cupid heard those words now, two words she thought she'd never hear from his thin grey lips, words that were so small but meant so very much. Everything was okay now; Everything that he had done and she had said was forgiven between them. Cupid kissed his shoulder before wrapping her draped legs around his waist, lowering herself deeper into him.

That must have taken everything he had, his pride, his strength to lower his wall like that. It was all her mind could think of, over and over and over again because her companionship in his life meant everything to him. Her kingdom and her so called purpose in this existence. Her friendship with Jack and her oath as a guardian, everything she was worried about risking and possibly losing for this man meant nothing, meaningless to her now. And she hated how they were ever a concern in the first place, especially when he had given so much of himself and she had given so little. Cupid stroked her fingers against the dark skin of his cheeks before she began softly kissing them. But that wasn't enough, she wanted him to feel her forgiveness, her sense of wrong doing. She wanted him…all of him, with or without his shield, and she had to express that to him. Passionately with an unmistakable fierceness, she kissed his ears, she kissed his eyes, kissed his nose, kissed his mouth, kissed his neck, kissed him everywhere, not once allowing herself to stop and take a breath because she had lost nearly eight hours of her summer, time she would never get back with him. She had to make up for it now; she owed that to him at the very least. Pitch closed his eyes and moaned deeply into her neck, not fighting the feeling of her perfect lips covering every inch of his face, it was wonderful, almost euphoric. He relocated his hands from her hourglass waist to her thighs as her kisses pressed themselves into his neck, sensually, desperately into everyplace they could fit.

"I'm so sorry, Pitch…" she cried softly, her warm tears making contact with the cool flesh against his throat. She was forced to stop when the tears unintentionally turned into uncontrollable sobs. "I'm so sorry…"

The King of Fear slid his fingers underneath her chin, giving it a slight push, forcing her to gaze into his penetrating eyes. He looked at her heart shaped mouth, her bloodshot but incredibly breathtaking eyes, her scarless, porcelain face.

"I can understand why he pursues you, Cupid… You're beautiful…" he softly spoke, delightful that her response was a soft pink blush that covered her entire face.

Cupid tried, but ultimately failed at hiding her embarrassing reaction to such an out of place compliment. She wanted to bury her heated face into his neck, but instead she was required to look at the creases forming at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"The day we met, that very first day, when I saw you on that lake….I thought you were the brightest, most beautiful being I had ever seen…" he confessed, attempting to reach a level with her beyond just being physical. This meant something to him, she had to hear it. Pitch's thoughts returned to that night, that cold, dark, and lonely night. When the Man in the Moon spoke to him for the first time since he had woken up, telling him to come outside… and his eyes fell upon that girl, who shined brighter than the strongest lighthouse. She was scared of the night, so scared that she had fired her very first arrow into the darkness, accidently piercing his hand as he hid under the bed. She had been nothing more than a stupid, defenseless girl. But now she was here, as his lover, as his companion, as his…guardian. "…and now I realize, you are also the kindest…"

Cupid was speechless, her breathing had stopped and the beating of her heart had stopped. He was being so honest with her, so open and vulnerable that she wondered if she had cast a spell on him and just couldn't bring herself to remember. Not since Shakespeare had a man spoke to her like this. She just didn't know how she should react to him. This was Pitch Black, the Boogieman himself, the King of all nightmares and fears… all she could do was believe him. And she did. Without a single doubt. Beaming her pearly whites, she pulled on the collar of his black robe, crushing her mouth against his.

Without hesitance, Pitch roamed his hands up Cupid's soft thighs underneath her dress as her lips claimed his. Cupid slid her delicate fingers across his exposed chest that was always teasing her with such a dramatic low slit, panting softly as her tongue forced its way into a battle against his tongue. He wanted her. He wanted her body intertwining with his. After nearly eight hours of silence, he needed her. Cupid could feel his need, she needed him too. There could always be words, apologies, and confessions but there had to be forgiveness and understanding or it was all for naught. She encouraged his hands to wander up higher by opening her legs just a tad. Gently falling back into the silk pillows, taking his mouth with her, she implied that he could have her right here if he wanted to and oh, how he wanted to. But not as fierce and rough as their past two experiences, he wanted slow, intimate, and passionate. Traits that he had never felt with another woman during sex before because he never felt them to be necessary.

"Pitch…" she cooed, feeling his hardness outside of her warm and excited entrance. She gently kissed his temples as she felt himself adjust to her tightness once more. "Pitch, please…"

"Shhh," he whispered back before lightly planting tiny pecks on her neck. "Just relax, Cupid…"

His golden eyes gazed into her purple ones as he tenderly laced her fingers with his. Pitch brought them above her head before he began to slow move his hips, rocking them softly and gently into her warmth. His lips abandoned her neck for her panting chest. His tongue danced across her right rosebud nipple, sucking it ever so slightly, earning him the wonderful sound of her soft mews.

"Does that feel good?" he asked between breaths.

"Mhm…yes, Darling" Cupid moaned into the air, her fingers wrapping tighter around his. "Don't...stop…please…Pitch…"

Cupid's body began to squirm and wiggle beneath his, she craved more…she wanted more of him. He lightly brought his lips to hers as he gradually picked up his pace. Releasing her hands, he held onto her hips, giving him completely control of his speed. Her hands left the pillows and gripped themselves on his bare back, wanting leverage. Never failing to be turned out by her aggression, Pitch pounded harder and harder into her, grunting through his teeth as her tightness constricted around his hardened length. One of his hands left her hip and began to cup and squeeze her perfect breasts as they bounced in flawless unison with his long plunges.

"You're so…beautiful." He growled into her chest, still unconvinced that he was worth of such a gem. "You're mine…all mine…" and she was. Right here. Right now. She belonged to him, to the darkness.

Upon hearing her breathless moans and pants from the overwhelming sensation of ecstasy that consumed them both, Pitch knew he was on the verge of climaxing sooner than anticipated but he was in no way disappointed. He fastened his hands on to her shoulders, buried his face into those soft, blonde curls and cried out loud in pleasure as he thrust on.

"Oh…Cupid…" he somehow managed to force out as his fingers traced over the scar made by his teeth.

They breathed heavily together, completely out of sync, as they rode out their orgasms. Then there was nothing, nothing but absolute bliss and contentment mixed with deep sighs and shaking fingers as the sweat emitting from the bodies became cold. After kissing her scar again to mark his tally, Pitch Black then pushed his weight onto his elbows so he could glance at her porcelain face, caressing it slowly as if it were a priceless piece of art.

Releasing a breath of happiness, Cupid raised her right hand and brushed back several sweated-down dark locks of hair behind his ear inspiring him to do the same to her hair without giving a conscious thought about it. Her purple eyes shined through her heavy, sleep deprived eyelids as she brought her lips to the tip of his nose. He quickly turned his head to the side, catching her completely off guard as he kissed her lips so possessively that it left her speechless when he broke away.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked again only this time with a dreamlike tone, covering up his insecurity that she wouldn't…not after last night.

"Yes…but…not every day, I'll have to see them once in a while…so they don't become suspicious." She replied, hoping that he would understand that it was not because she was choosing Jack's company over his own but rather prioritizing his safety as well as hers. "…but every night, I will be here. I promise…"

Cupid's heart shaped lips curled up into a grin when he replied with a simple nod, because he could sense her fear that he wouldn't and he didn't want to cause her any additional distress than he already had.

"But for the rest of the day, well, this morning and afternoon…I would like to sleep…" she continued before giving a small, but honest yawn. "I'm so tired…"

"Only if I can lay by your side…" he requested as he rested his worn out body next to hers and wrapped a clothed arm around her waist, where the fabric of her dress was still bunched from their love making.

"Why must you always dress so fast? I don't much care for it." She teased, unaware that he had a reason, a very good reason and didn't feel the need to discuss it right now.

"Sweet dreams, Cupid." He whispered into her ear before delightful exhaustion consumed them both.

* * *

When the first breaking light of dawn rose over the glaciers, Jack Frost called all of them to come to his palace in Antarctica right away, all of his colleagues, the other guardians…except one. It felt incredibly odd not having Cupid with the rest of them but that was exactly why they were all here in the first place. If she were to be here right now, it would ruin everything he had worked all night preparing for.

"This better be important, Mate…" E. Aster lazily groaned, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. "Some of us actually plan on sleeping this summer…"

"Tis early Jack, Why we here?" North forced out, trying to keep his heavy eyelids open. "Where is Cupid?" he remarked, noticing how much quieter it was without the lovebirds flirting with each other. Sandy had begun to dose off while still hovering slightly above the ground, it had been so long since the guardian of dreams could have dreams of his own.

With a cheeky grin, Jack confidently raised an eyebrow before presenting another tiny pink square box to them. While the men looked like they could care less, Tooth anxiously fluttered towards, all too excited to see what Jack had created this time. Swiping the opportunity from her, Jack popped open the top of the box.

"AHHH! Oh my molar!" she screamed out with the tone of a teenager, immediately awaking North, Sandy, and Bunnymund from their snoozing. "It's beautiful, Jack! She's going to love it!"

"Thanks, Tooth." he smiled, her words reflecting his thoughts perfectly. "I was up all night making it…" he continued before pausing to take a deep yawn. "She deserves nothing but the best…"

"Now, that's an engagement gift…" the Easter Bunny chimed in, very impressed that young troublemaker was capable of such craftsmanship. The Sandman showed the image of Jack getting down on one knee in front a smiling Cupid. She was nodding her head in excitement as she accepted his proposal with a romantic embrace

"Haha! That's the plan, Sandy!" he replied to his silent friend, incredibly pleased with himself. He had spent hours on top of hours creating this perfected piece of jewelry that made his last gift look atrocious by comparison, He was secretly hoping that she would never wear it again.

"So…Jack, are we looking at summer wedding or fall wedding?" North asked with a bursting excitement.

"Winter, we're going to have a perfect summer together and then on the last day, I'm going to ask her… properly this time. No mistakes." he promised with an unmistakable confidence.

* * *

**If you wanna see the ring that Jack made for Cupid, click the link below! I stumbled across it the other day and I deemed it perfect.**

img3. etsystatic (insert dot com followed by a slash)000/0/5839220/ il_570xN. 213054619. jpg (without the spaces, respectively.)

**Sorry for the delay on this one, I've gots the flu. **** darn illnesses and their ickyness. But no worries, I'll be updating soon dearies, but in the meantime, please R&R 3**


	7. Hidden in Plain Sight

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or Dreamworks 'Rise of the Guardians' although I wish I did, I wouldn't let Pitch outta my sight. However, this version of Cupid is mine

Thank you all for your incredible patience. These past two weeks have been super hectic! I had the flu then my 10 month old had the flu and then I had mid-terms at pharm college and it was all so crazy! Ah! But your kind words in reviews and high interest in this story have kept me going and I cannot express my gratitude enough. Thank you so much.

* * *

**It's May 1****st ****! (give or take a few hours) Woo! Thank you to everyone who decided to participate in my sorta lame contest. I got so many awesome suggestions and I wish I could use them all, but alas…I cannot **** . Here are the big winners!**

**First Place & Big Winner: Yugioh13**

**Runner Ups: Emma L & Kagihime-chan **

**Keep an eye on your inbox, I'll be messaging you tomorrow with your special story surprise **** Again, thank you all for participating. I love having your input and I might have another contest down the road. **

**Emma L: I know you don't have an official account but please pm me your email so I can send you your prize **

**Anywho, on with the story…you guys have waited long enough.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Hidden in Plain Sight**

"_Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?" – My Chemical Romance._

* * *

"Pitch…" Cupid softly strained into the air. She was in so much pain, so weak that saying his name alone caused her legs to give out beneath her.

Pitch Black flung himself across his underground kingdom to embrace the wounded guardian. He knew he shouldn't have let her go out, he didn't want her to leave this morning, but he also wanted to avoid fighting with her again at all costs. Incredibly protective instincts that he wasn't even aware he could feel took over as he managed to catch his winged angel as she collapsed towards the stone floor. There were no visible injuries. No cuts, no bleeding, no bruising but from what he could feel, her stamina was dangerously low, weakening her body to a near death level.

Cupid's breathing became slow and deep as her usually brilliant violet eyes changed to a dull, lifeless grey. Pitch had seconds, just mere seconds to save her and there was simply no time to be unrealistic and wonder what the hell had happened out there. He wasn't going to lose her. He wasn't going to let her out of his sight ever again. She couldn't die. She couldn't leave him. But he didn't know what to do, was she sick? Was she poisoned? What was he supposed to do? What this planned all along? For him to just have a beautiful taste of paradise and then have it be taken away just as fast as it had been birthed, for his lighthouse to crumple against the waves of his deep and dark ocean. How could he save her? How could this even happen? She was like him, she couldn't die. She wasn't supposed to die. He let his body gently fall to the ground as he pulled Cupid close to chest and wrapped his thin arms around her back. Rocking her slowly, it was then he realized how he had failed to notice the cold sweat on his brow and the spastic trembling of his hands.

Delicate, thin fingers reached up and brushed themselves to his face. He pressed his lips against them with an unstoppable fury.

"Pitch…?"

He wanted to be ecstatic to hear her beautiful smoothing voice but it had been reduced to a cracked, weak noise before silencing completely. Pitch pulled the tangled, blonde curls away out of her face as his thin, dark lips relocated themselves against her heart shaped ones. "Don't leave me…please."

"Pitch…"

"Cupid…don't go…please…don't go…I can't…lose you…I...l-"

"Pitch! Wake up, Darling!"

His piercing golden eyes shot open to meet breathtaking purples. She was hovering over him, alive, very much alive; those same delicate, thin fingers stroking his face with despite it being drenched in a cold sweat. He was embarrassed, ashamed really that his own nightmares could affect him like this. Reducing him to a weak, cowardly child, panting heavily with a breath born from the deepest of anxieties. His breathing hitched as his eyes focused on her porcelain face. Everything was perfect, her eyes, her plump pink lips, her rosy cheeks resting atop her brilliant, glowing skin. Pitch's entire center tensed as the images of her lifeless, broken body flashed through his mind. Images of what his fears portrayed her to be, dying in his arms, her last breath whispering his name as all the vibrant colors drained from her. His mares were playing tricks on him, his mind was seeing on thing, a horrific dream of his dying angel but his eyes were seeing another, her beaming smile reassuring him that she was full of life. His hands began shaking once more as they tightened their grip around her wrists, desperately searching for her pulse.

"You're okay, You're okay…relax…I'm here…shhh…I'm here…" she cooed, tucking his loose, wet hair behind his ear. "It's just a nightmare…" she bent down to gently kiss his cold lips, wrapping a jet black lock around her finger. Her lips were soft, the texture of rosebuds with the sweet taste of chocolate but most importantly, they were warm. Like a small flame. A glowing fire that surged through his blood and veins that made his heart want to burst through his chest. Intense relief was expressed across his face, she was here. He could feel it. She was alive.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes…" he finally managed to force out, albeit shaky.

"You were tossing and turning, you cried out my name, begged me not to go..." she softly spoke with an obvious concern in her tone. "What happened…?"

How could he tell her? Look her right in eyes and say that she had died in his arms, and admit how it completely destroyed him. How he was unable to prevent it, how he couldn't save her. What was the last word he was about to say, that he so desperately wanted to say. It had escaped his memory without a single trace but it left a heavy mark on his heart. It was something important, something he needed to tell to her. But it was gone...

"You have freckles?" he inquired with a surprised tone change that highlighted his British accent. He didn't deliberately intend to change the subject, but after knowing this woman, studying her for several thousand years, and even having sex with her, he somehow failed to notice the tiny pattern of darkened skin spots painted across her nose and it baffled him. She wouldn't dare change her appearance in front of him again, not after that first night, she would never do it again. How could he have gone so long without noticing them? They weren't ugly or disgracing towards her beauty in any way, in fact, they almost enhanced it. Making her appear much more human-like rather than a cursed immortal being like him.

"Um…yeah…" she was bewildered, not just from the complete one eighty topic change but that he noticed her tiny imperfections. Never having a man see her in her natural form while at the same time being intimate with him, she had completely forgotten that she even donned them. She was flattered, but remained concerned that he had shifted the conversation and now, more than likely, wouldn't return to it, leaving her to either be angry at him by pushing it further or just backing down entirely, accepting that he wasn't going to talk about it. And she didn't want to fight with him.

Cupid inhaled deeply and softly kissed his neck, her hair draping over his face like a blanket.

"You should get some rest." she murmured as her tongue danced across the beads of sweat. She could hear him gasp when she slowly grinded her hips into his pelvis.

"How do you expect me to...oh…sleep…when you do such…things…?" Pitch moaned, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair as his hands made their way up her back. He felt his shaft instantly harden at the pressure of her body against his. They were still wearing clothes and that greatly displeased him. He wanted her, he needed her right now. "Ride…me…please. I want you so bad, Cupid…" He begged with a gentle whisper.

Releasing a small chuckle, Cupid curled her lips into his neck as she whispered into his ear, "How bad?"

"So...bad…" he panted, feeling her hands remove his pants for his legs. She was wet, practically soaking through her white panties for him. He could feel her moist warmth against his throbbing shaft. There was no point in denying it, the Boogieman knew and the Guardian of Romance knew they were becoming so much more than just one or two night stand. There were feelings being birthed, intense feelings to an unknown degree that both of them were beginning to feel for another. She was so different. Even in his prime…his highest peak of power, he was never with the same woman more than twice and never ever with an immortal being…until her. Queens of fire and stone eventually passed away and new queens of metal and glass took their place. And yet, none of them ever held his interest enough to request multiple sexual encounters. Except her. None had ever desired for his touch from their own free will or had given themselves to him so willingly without the slightest bit of fear. And no other woman had been able to lie next to him in his own bed without experiencing a single nightmare. Except Cupid. Pitch had noticed it that very first night when she fell asleep so peacefully, her fingers locked with his…and staying asleep without a single stir…something that not even he could accomplish.

How?

How was she so different? How could she be? Not only did his nightmares not affect her, he also couldn't attack her. How was she any different than any other immortal? She pleasured him sexually, engaged him socially, fearless of him, kind to him… She was…he dare to think…compatible…like they were meant to…

Before Pitch even finished that thought, his mind dismissed it when he felt those rosy lips pressing against his, her tongue demanding an entrance.

Despite her own complex thoughts about him racing through her mind, Cupid embraced his warm, strong, and incredibly protective arms wrapping themselves around her. Whimpering softly when his tongue began a feverish dance with hers, she felt his rough hands glide down the soft fabric covering her back, granting her complete control of their position. His succulent kisses started off gentle, teasing her month with undesired impatience but gradually increased their speed. Her long, graceful fingers began working down the dark cloth covering his chest while her white dress was pushed off her shoulders revealing her already perked nipples as they hovered over his hairless chest. A few kisses later, both were undressed, their dry naked bodies shivering with anticipation. Grasping her hips firmly, he slowly placed her atop of his throbbing and eager length. A sigh of pure pleasure forced itself from her heart shaped lips as his shaft slowly made its way through her constricting walls.

"Oh…" he grunted out, praying to the moon that she would always feel this tight. "So…good…" Her hands planted themselves firmed on his chest as he filled her core entirely. Even though their past encounters had been slightly painful, her body now fully welcomed him and stretched itself to accommodate his rock hard cock without any resistance. Forcefully, he latched his right hand onto the back of her head and pushed, guiding her perfect C-cupped breasts to hover over his mouth. Extending his neck, his lips devoured her nipples. Kissing, licking, and biting with a gentle tenderness as to not scar them with his jagged teeth. A precaution that he never considered with another because he honestly didn't care.

"Pitch…oh my…you…don't…stop…" she panted, feeling his tongue circle around her breast. It certainty didn't help that his hands were accommodating his month oh so well, squeezing them with all the attention he could possibly muster. But it wasn't enough. While he was distracted, she bucked into his hips, smiling when she heard a sharp breath gasped into her chest.

"Oh." He growled sensually. "You want to play it like that then…" then he thrust upwards at full force, straight into her heat. Wrapping his legs around her waist, he unexpectedly turned over, causing her to land on her back. With her hands pinned above her head, he began aggressively pounding into her. Not allowing her time to gasp, not allowing her time to react, or scream, or cry out in ecstasy, she was completely defenseless, and she was all his.

Each thrust was fast and each thrust was deep. Very deep. Leaving her breathless, Cupid arched her back against the sheets as her nails let light pink trails down his back. Pitch kneeled down and released long, hot moans into the crook of her neck.

"Harder, Pitch! Please…Harder!" she hissed.

In the heat of the moment, he gripped onto one of her ankles and hoisted it over his shoulder allowing himself so much more of her. She had to scream, she had to. It was too much. It was his voice, his grunts and his moans that were coming out more frequently and more desperate. Unable to contain this sensation, his tone was heightening.

"Cupid..God…" he cried out, the cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Pitch's eyes were clamped shut. He couldn't focus on anything but wanting to pleasure her. He couldn't explain it but each and every time felt better than the last. How could he have gone so long, thousands of years, of not having her like this. Even after twelve years of what could be loosely defined as 'dating', he was never tempted. She had initiated it. All of it.

"Ah! Your Majesty! I…I'm gonna…I think…"

"Go, C'mon…get there…come for me…ah…" he demanded, bucking harder and faster.

She screamed just seconds before she rode out her orgasm, triggering his hot seed to spill into her, moaning heavily as he did so.

* * *

Hours passed slowly and sleep did not come easy to either of them, although neither of them would admit it. She wanted to know, had to know if this was just a fling, if there was something else blooming between them and most importantly, if he could feel it too. That these feeling weren't just one sided.

Feelings.

Were there feelings at all?

There was friendship, yes. Trust? clearly. But was there more or was it strictly just sex? She didn't know if she just wasn't aware of them or just couldn't accept them for what they were. If they even existed. They were light and dark. Day and Night. Fear and Love. He was a threat to this world and she was a guardian to this world. There could never be a compromise, never. They could never be open or affectionate or even public. They could continue to exchange gifts, but how long would that last before the meaning was lost? The voice of reason would always be pushed aside, promises would always be broken, and secrets would always have to be kept. How could she expect this to be anything more than…whatever it was when there were so many limitations? She had been with other men and him with other women but here they were time and time again. Defying nature.

How could an emotion over flood her senses but at the same time leave her so empty.  
Make her heart soar but also bring her to tears.

"Cupid…" he whispered with concern. Her fears were bursting out her skull with an incredible persistence. All about him. All about them. He could see all of her fears, poisoning her…draining her and it was destroying him. "Stop…"  
"Stay out of my thoughts!" and then she fled. Too ashamed to admit her weaknesses, too embarrassed that he could always read her fears, and too enraged that she wouldn't be able to stop him, so she left.

The warm midnight summer breeze kissed her skin from her overdue absence. The soft dirt tickled her bare feet, massaging them from the cold marble floors. It was the middle of the night, although she couldn't tell if it was the same day or possibly even the next day. There was no way to know. Cupid never thought she would miss the familiar scent of fresh air until she had been deprived of it. It was clean, petrichor scented air that reminded her of why she had fallen so deeply in love with this Earth in the first place. Seizing the opportunity of being out of Pitch's sight, Cupid ran a hand through her massive mane of hair, each and every curl stretching and straightening to its true length. All the way down to her Achilles' heel. Thin, blonde bangs framed the sides of her face, popping her eyes and cheekbones.

"You should straighten your hair more often." He softly whispered to her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You look so elegant." Romantically kissing her cheek, he intertwined his fingers around hers, and rested them atop her stomach. "I can't control it, Cupid. It's just an instinct. I'm sorry."

It wasn't the apology she was expecting but it was never the less welcomed, especially coming from him.

"I…just…I don't know…" she confessed, feeling his fingertips on her scar.

'_Just say it, Cupid. Don't be a coward. Not to him of all people.'_

"What are we? Us…I mean-" She hated wording it like that but she had to know. Right now.

"That's a juvenile question." He interrupted with a harsh tone. "…but if you must know. You are my lover…and if I have to say it, I also consider you…a fr-friend."

"Do you trust me?"

"Obviously."

"What is your name…your real name?"

"Cupid…"

"I know you know…you remember what it is like…to be human."

"Yes…I do."

"Tell me your name. Please."

"Tell me yours." She wouldn't give him the sick satisfaction of answering that question. He knew she didn't know.

"You just said that you trusted me?"

"That's not the reason."

"Please…"

"I've never told anyone. Besides, it's not relevant to who I am now."

"Honor me." She pressured. "Let me be the first to know."

She was beginning to sound like a spoiled child and it infuriated him. His lovers were strong, confident, and intelligent women, nothing below his incredibly high standards… not entitled brats. But then again, Cupid usually got what she wanted whether it was information, candy, flowers, gifts, and sometimes, even men since she took her very first breath. She couldn't possibly know how immature she sounded right now.

"What's your center?" she persisted, bound and determined to get something, if anything out of him.

"What?" Pitch replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Your reason for being here…on this Earth…your center…"

"Is that a silly term created by the fat one?"

"Pitch…"

"I don't believe in such nonsense…"

"Then tell me your name!"

"Why do you need to know?"

"I don't need to know. I want to know." She sarcastically shot back, proving his point entirely.

"Why?" he hissed, rapidly growing impatient with her.

"Because…" she was drawing a blank and starting to regret that she even asked him at all. She was a fool to think he'd be so open with her about something so personal. Cupid said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I…just…want to know you better."

"Come up with that excuse right off the top of your head? You're going to have to do better than that Ms. Bowenaro."

'_How long has it been…since I've heard that name…'_

"Because I've shared a bed with you and..-"

"And that entitles you to know my most per-"

"I've defend your life against those who wish to end it!" Now, it was her turn to interrupt him. "Stood up to you. And despite being fully aware of Jack's feelings for me, I've chosen your presence over his!"

Silence.

"_Greed! You said she didn't know! This will ruin the entire plan! What are we supposed to do now?!"_

"_Shut up, Envy! We'll figure something out…"_

"_But we've wasted so much time, all for naught…she's been one step ahead of us all along."_

"_I know that, but be patient…this only heightens his trust for the whore even more, and sooner or later, that trust has to sway and evidentially…fall…"_

"You've known all this time that Frost…loves you?" He was completely taken back. This changed everything about her. All that time he wasted, all the hours he spent believing her to be so ignorant when in all actually he had been the fool, never once taking into consideration that she may have known the entire time.

"Of course I have! It's almost insulting how clear it is! And they encourage it, all of them! What am I supposed to say to that? They think we're this absolute perfect couple and we're not. He's my…friend, my best friend and to think of him as anything else…is weird. It's so embarrassing and sometimes, I feel like I have no say, I have no choice….until you. I chose you and I'm choosing you right now."

'_Will you always choose me?'_

He couldn't find the strength to say those words.

"I'm not as you so nicely put it 'oblivious'." She mocked, making quotation marks with her fingers. "I'm the Guardian of Love. That's the only thing I know! How to inspire it, how to destroy it, how to um…make it. And I…I very much know when others feel it…"

And because of that, she knew in her heart of hearts…that Pitch Black didn't feel it for her. And for some strange reason she couldn't explain, it made her sad. But how could it? What if he did love…her? How could she even accept it if he did?

"You don't love him?" he whispered, shining the inescapable spotlight on her.

"I recall making that very clear a few nights ago. With a kiss." And then she made it clear to him again, just to kill any remaining doubt he had, replicating the same fierceness and passion of their first kiss flawlessly. But there was more to it now. He felt something else. Something deeper. Something stronger and it left him breathless.

"Cupid…" Pitch muttered into her mouth, grabbing a handful of smooth, shiny hair and letting it fall ever so delicately between his fingers. She was here, choosing him over someone who wanted to spend of rest of his eternal life with her and he just couldn't comprehend why. She could have any man she desired, the most handsome, the wealthiest, the most intelligent...even her best friend…but she chose him…

"Yes…Pitch?" She couldn't bring herself open her eyes, her senses were so overloaded from that heavily entrancing, velvet voice.

"I promise you…on the day of my death…I will tell you my name."

"Do still believe me daft? You're immortal…"

"Pity then."

"Pitch! You bastard!" She shouted, patting him on the chest playfully. The Guardian was flustered and he found it nothing less than bizarrely adorable. It took a lot to get her to curse. She wasn't a goody two shoes by any definition of the word, having enough notches on her bedpost that would embarrass even the very oldest of trees, but she was still a lady when it came to socializing…most of the time, when she wasn't being a stubborn brat or an irresistible temptress.

"You and your secrets, Darling…I swear to the Moon, you're going to be the death of me…" she smirked, nudging his shoulder lightly before dropping back into the pit under the broken bed, disgruntled that she wasn't able to gain any information about him, but strangely satisfied that she obtained a promise.

The Boogieman was left alone where they stood; completely frozen and numb. Nothing was ever a coincidence in this world and no one knew that better than the immortals, guardians or not. Planting a small kiss below his right hand, he silently cursed the Man in the Moon for the sick joke. Nothing was going to happen to her, his light, his angel, his guardian. And that was a promise…

* * *

**DUNDUNDUN!**

**Again, thank you for the long wait. Life happens and it often gets in the way of hobbies and interests. Please review dearies, I couldn't have never made it this far without you. Thank you so much for your support! :D**

**Also, congrats to our big winners and don't forget to check your inboxes tomorrow! **


	8. Stronger Than Love

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch or Rise of the Guardians in any way, however, this version of Cupid is miiiiiine :D! and I love writing her, she's a hoot. Greed and Envy are also mine (whoever they might be) I'd like to give a special shout out to OnyxKozmotis for taking the time to review each and every chapter and leaving such kind words. It is much appreciated. Enjoy lovelies!

Aaaaand introducing 'Mortis'. He is also mine. He's also an immortal but a much more tragic one than our lovely Boogieman.

I wrote him having the voice of Benedict Cumberbatch. –Swoon- God…that voice...it could impregnate someone if it really wanted to…what? Um. Oh yeah. Better get on with this.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Stronger Than Love**

"_Love and Death are the two great hinges on which all human sympathies turn." – B.R. Hayden._

* * *

"So, Ms. Bowenaro…"

'_How long has it been, Mortis…since we last spoke? How long has it been…since I've heard that name…'_

"How long have you been sleeping with Pitch Black?" he implored without the slightest hesitation in his voice. His silver, dead eyes appeared to be entranced with the ripples ricocheting off the rim of his tea filled mug. But if one knew Mortis like Cupid, and no one did, they would know he was incredibly patient and just simply counting the seconds until she responded. He was known as many things to the humans of Earth. The Reaper, Death, and Grim. Portrayed as the inescapable harbinger cloaked in black, with nothing more than reanimated bones residing under those robes when in all actually, his appearance was quite youthful. He appeared to be in his late thirties, maybe around the same physical age as Pitch. Just as tall and slender if not more so. Covered by a dull and white complexion that never shimmered like Jack's. Sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes were often hidden by long, straight silver hair that looked as if it could shine like the night stars but she didn't know for sure. He wore a black suit accented with red pinstripes that complimented his height as well as his build. Occasionally, he would don a maroon cape that billowed extravagantly in the smallest of breezes. But not today.

He was ancient, older than the rivers and the trees, the dirt and the sky. Older than Pitch and herself by several millennia, the wisest and most intelligent of all the immortals, and also the loneliest. Pitch was lonely, yes, but he could touch another's body. Hold their hand. Kiss their lips. Feel the shivers down their spine. Stroke their face, intimately. Mortis could not. Not without permanent consequence. Not without pure selfishness, an emotion he wasn't capable of feeling…thanks to her. His friend. The only woman in existence who did not fear him. She welcomed his company. She could sit in his presence without wondering if he would go off an emotional impulse and grip her shoulder or maybe accidently brush his fingertips against her hand and she never dared to argue with him over his cursed existence. Not once. Their meetings outside of work were seldom and far apart, often decades passing between each encounter. But this time, it was urgent; it was more than just conversation.

"Do not insult my intelligence nor your own by denying it, Cupid." he was stern, but his deep, baritone voice echoed with a subtle compassion that was meant only for her and her alone. "And do not let the false illusion of misplaced trust prevent you from telling me the correct answer."

"A month." The Guardian confirmed, remembering each of the sixty-seven times that her and the Boogieman had made love over the past four weeks. Her thighs, hips, and breasts were imprinted with deep blue bruises shaped like fingertips, none of which she was ashamed of, but still took into consideration when choosing her wardrobe. A skin tight white dressed covered her body from wrist to ankle, no plunging neckline, no enticing slit up the leg. Respect for the dead meant dressing conservatively in his presence. "If you don't mind me asking," she continued. "How did you know?"

"Your feather. The black one. It's well hidden but as you know…"

"Nothing gets past you." Cupid finished for him.

"Nothing." He reiterated calmly, placing his tea on table, desperately desiring to hear whatever reasoning she had for her reckless actions. "Do the others know? What am I saying, of course they don't…but that's the fun of it. Sneaking around? But at what cost, Cupid? Frost isn't exactly going to congratulate you…"

"They're not going to find out, Mortis…I've taken ever-" she wasn't allowed to finish, how could she? When he suddenly slammed his hands down on the table and pressed his face close to hers. A proximity that was most unwelcomed by all living things on the entire planet, except her. She knew him like no one else. His nose was inches…just two inches away from hers. Inches away from stripping Cupid of her own immortality and reducing to her nothing but rotting worm food six feet underground. His breath was frozen, stale, and eerie but she remained unafraid.

"I'm never the less impressed that you've managed to make it a month, on top of the twelve years doing what the humans would describe as "Dating", but you're going to get caught. You're defying nature herself and the longer this goes on, the more devastating it's going to be. I know you. You haven't thought of a single thing to say when your latest fling is broadcasted because it has not gone beyond anything more than pure, animalistic sex to the both of you. Am I wrong? Please, I insist. Tell me I'm wrong because I could really use a laugh right now."

"Not just anyone can make you laugh, Mortis." She replied slowly, leaning backwards against her seat, away from him. He mimicked her actions, further fascinated that while she couldn't outwit him, she could keep up with him alongside waving the white flag of defeat time and time again. Something her coward of a lover could not do when challenging him.

"But you're not just anyone. Not to me."

Cupid raised an eyebrow. Death was cunning, manipulative and worst of all, incredibly patient…always one step ahead of everyone else. And when she saw a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, she knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"It's not the same."

"_Bring him back! Please! You can't take him away from me! I'll give you anything…Anything!"_

"It's exactly the same, you've exchanged words for flesh this time around. My God, how you've matured…"

"_Everything has it's time. Everything has to die, Ms. Bowenaro. Even your precious poet."_

"Don't compare Pitch Black to Shakespeare, Mortis. It's not the same."

"_Give him back….give him…back…please…"_

"If I took the last bit of air from his lungs, would you cry over his corpse…demanding I give it back…just as you did with dear, old William?"

"_No."_

"That technique didn't work last time, so no, I wouldn't and you didn't even apologize, Mortis."

"For Christ's sake, let it go. He was a human, no more special than the rest of them. His work was mediocre at best and don't try to trick me again. Changing the subject like that. You're getting defensive, hiding behind the human who glorified your name. You're over him. He's just a shield now. Guarding your feelings for someone new?"

"There are no feelings between me and Pitch. It's just pure, animalistic sex…just like you said."

"And now, you're lying…don't make that habit around me. At first, I suspected you were ashamed of your actions for whatever reasons you chose to come up with, your precious Jack, your oath as a guardian, your own morals…But that can't be, because you wearing a mark from him. And it's as well hidden as your true desires for the monster."

"It was parting gift, Mortis. He insisted on it."

"…and yet, you have not parted with him. I can only imagine what you gave him in exchange…" He chuckled an unnaturally low tone behind his grinning lips.

"What is this about?!" she shouted, finally fed up with his games.

"Your sex life, of course! What else is there to talk about when it comes to you? We all know that you just send out the clouds to do your work nowadays."

"I'm on-" she defended.

"Vacation. I know. Do. Not. Play. Dumb. With. Me." He warned dangerously. "For reasons you're aware of but don't feel the need to share, you've been rather…unresponsive? …No that's not that the correct word…LAZY… when it comes to actually doing your job as a guardian. I mean, really…when was the last time you actually shot an arrow? Twenty years? Give or take? That's what this is about. Is Pitch just a lovely distraction from a much bigger problem? AND FOR GOD'S SAKE! TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF YOUR STOMACH AND LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

The Guardian of Love stormed off from his dining room altogether, only turning around once …just to gain the upper hand, to give him the last word. "I've got better things to do that to talk to you about my sex life…which frankly, is none of your damn business." Her breath was suddenly caught in her throat when he appeared directly in front of her as she turned her head back.

"Get out of my way." She hissed through her teeth as she pointed a finger at his chest, attempting to sound as threatening as possible but ultimately coming off as nothing but a fool.

"Or what, Goddess? You'll commit suicide? That'll show me, right? Besides, you don't have the nerve. I'm afraid your immortality isn't resistant to me, my dear."

"I'm not afraid of you. Nobody else can say that. You'd have no one if I died...Are you jealous?"

"Never make the assumption that I'm capable of that emotion. I've taken the lives of newborn humans just seconds after they take their first breath. You can't feel love or the worthless emotions associated with it when you have to do that, Cupid. Please know that all of this is strictly out of concern for a friend and not just for the sake of gossip and berating. Pitch isn't exactly the most compassionate of beings and I'm just trying to figure out why of all the eligible immortals, of all the men on the entire planet who would plead on their knees just to reach out and touch you…touch that beautiful, porcelain skin…" and then he reached out his own hand, desperately desiring something he could never have, something that was right in front of him. The warm, sensual, and intimate touch of another…

A Queen.

There were no romantic feelings between them. Death and Love. Nothing but a great understanding and an unmistakable respect when it came to the strongest of human emotions. They had met over the strangest of circumstances, the death of a poet and a desperate plea. He had recognized that defiance, that resistance to him…he had only seen once before and only once before. A long long time ago. And with that, every twenty-five years or so a short meeting would take place between them. Only them. Because she did not fear Death. Her and her alone. The kindest of all beings.

"Mortis…" she intervened softly with a sincere graciousness border lining on sympathy. Her voice froze his hand in suspension, reminding him of his curse. But she wanted, oh…how she wanted to just reach out and lace her fingers with his, kiss his wrist, bring his hand to her face and let him feel the delicate touch of a lover. All for the very first time. She was all he had, all he could ever have, a friend and companion…and he couldn't even touch her…but Fear could…the least deserving creature of them all…

"…and you chose him…" he finally finished, his velvet voice echoing with disappointment and defeat.

"I'm so sorry, my friend…" Cupid grieved, reaching out her fingers and stopping them directly in front of his.

"Don't be…I just don't want you to get hurt…he's not going to die easily and neither are you…you're going to have to live with this decision until this Earth collapses around us all and honestly, my dear, that will not be happening for a very long time."

"I know, Mortis. It just feels…different with him. He's different around me, he acts different, and he speaks different…"

"I remain unconvinced."

"If you're so worried, you should talk to him yourself."

"No."

"Every living thing on the planet fears you…fears dying.. I don't understand the disagreement between you two."

"Because it wasn't always that way, Cupid. Don't suggest such an imbecilic idea again." His tongue clenched behind his teeth, telling her to not even think about what had happened between the two ageless beings, and for some dark, twisted reason that sent shivers down her spine, she didn't want the answers…not from him.

"Well, this has been uncomfortable, I'm gonna go…" Cupid whispered, avoiding eye contact with the reaper himself as she brushed past him in an annoyed fury. Death's face softened slightly, it was nowhere near his intention to offend the former Aphrodite turned Cupid, and he couldn't reach out to stop her.

"Can we make our visits more frequent?" he shouted to the door as it slammed behind her.

* * *

Cupid's feet barely tapped the now very familiar marble floor when she was suddenly collided against a wall. Cold, slender fingers pinned her wrists while a strong thigh arched itself between her legs and lifted her high into the air.

"So much clothing…" Pitch purred into her neck, his hardened erection awaited outside of her underwear. He moaned softly as her pulse increased beneath his grip. "I just want to…" his kissed her throat so slowly, so gently. "tear it off…right now…". But Cupid's mind was too clouded for him right now, filled with too many questions, worries, and speculation to respond to his pressuring advances, no matter how good they truly made her body feel. "Oh, Cupid…" Growling, his left grip abandoned her wrist in exchange for her breast, squeezing and groping it to an almost painful level. His thumb danced across her nipple, trying hard to stimulate her. But she was silent.

"Nothing like Death himself to dampen your mood, huh?" Never ceasing the opportunity to insult the damned man further than he already had, Pitch roared out a hearty laugh that bounced from wall to wall as he dropped Cupid from his lust grip. Disappointment had quickly turned to amusement and although he was ultimately denied by his temptress, he was highly entertained by her still incredibly low standards of company.

"How is your dear friend? Still a virgin?" There was a fine line between cruelty and wit and Pitch had absolutely no problem compromising that line. "Oh, how hard it must be for him, to see you…like this, in all your radiant beauty, your intelligence, your charisma…I'm not even jealous, not even the smallest bit. Because I couldn't resist you after so long but for Mortis…it must be…" and then he paused before laughing again. "Killing him…"

"That's not funny." Cupid criticized harshly, turning her back on him and making her way to her wardrobe.

"Don't be a stick in the mud, Cupid. It's hilarious."

"What did you do to him?" she whispered into the empty air, away from him, away from his taunting and ridicule. "His curse…was that you? Surely you're not capable of such a thing…" Enraging him slightly, he slid into the shadows and rose up directly in front of her before gripping her shoulder, forcing her to look into his golden eyes.

"I'm capable of much more than you think…His curse is all Manny's doing. I had nothing to do with it. But once upon a time, ages ago, death was welcomed in battle. It was considered by many to be the highest honor, Death's presence…and that just simply wouldn't do."

She was speechless, staring at him as if he were a complete stranger. This was not Pitch. Her Pitch. Her beautiful Nightmare King. Her partner and lover. The man she was risking everything for. This was the Boogieman from the stories, the stories from all those years ago…when nearly all the lights went out and the world turned dark, the monster under the broken bed…

"And since I know he won't tell you the whole story, I wanted something that he had in his possession and when he refused, I made sure he'd regret it for the rest of his pitiful existence…"

"Jesus, Pitch…why would you do that…did he steal something from you?"

"No. It wasn't mine, but it wasn't his either, and I wanted it."

And then it all clicked like a tidal wave of relief in the hurricane of her thoughts. What he had done. What he was fully capable of. It was so obvious, so simple and so incredibly devastating that she couldn't comprehend if her mind had overlooked it or just chose to ignore it. She had said it to Mortis without realizing it. Right to his face.

'…_fears dying…'_

"So, you made every living thing terrified of him as soon as they're born, so he could never know honor or bravery or companionship...he's a wonderful, intelligent man…how could you do that?! After all you've been through, your loneliness…you all of beings. "

"I'm not a monster, Cupid. I merely created one." Pitch's voice was completely deprived of all emotion when those words so effortlessly left his mouth. He felt no remorse, no regret for his actions. He had damned a man, an immortal man to a life of no acceptance and loneliness and felt nothing for it… and it was beginning to make her nervous. An unfamiliar side, dangerous by assumption, always present but always hiding in the shadows ready to act if need be. What in the Moon's name had driven him to such insanity.

"Was it worth it? The item in question, was it worth all the heartbreak you've caused him?" Cupid whimpered, her breath shaking abnormally and fast. He wasn't going to attack her, not again but it was the same feeling…the exact same feeling.

"No. because he still has it and I'm not foolish enough to fight him in combat for it. Not a big fan of his curse either."

'_Coward.'_

"For God's sake…what was it?! What could you have possibly wanted so bad…" her delicate fingers latched on to the collar of his robe, pulling his face closer to hers, not romantically in any way.

"A tooth." He spat out before curling his lips into the most sickening of grins. There was more to it. There had to be, so much more than what he was telling her. A bigger part of the mystery that he had yet to reveal whether it be from his own his own sick amusement or something she wasn't supposed to know.

* * *

DUNDUNDUN! Is there some deeper secret between Fear and Death? What could it be? Stay Tuned to find out! As always, reviews are always appreciated !


	9. Unexpected Surprises

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians. I do own Cupid and Mortis though. Teehee!**

**I cannot apologize enough for the incredible delay of this chapter. Life happens and that's all I feel like saying. I do intend on completing this story, trust me. The ending is already written and complete, just all the silly stuff in between is what's getting to me. However, I'm going to give you a heads up, I will be visiting loved ones 1200 miles away for the next three weeks, so there probably won't be any updates until very early July. It sucks, but priorities come first I suppose. It's not fair, I know but that's just life. I promise I will not abandon this story. I've been very blessed to not have any negative reviews on this story as of yet and I cannot express enough gratitude for that. I wouldn't keep writing if it wasn't for you guys. Thank you.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**Unexpected Surprises**

"_If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love is insanity, why are you my clarity?" – Foxes._

* * *

"For God's sake…what was it?! What could you have possibly wanted so bad…" her delicate fingers latched on to the collar of his robe, pulling his face closer to hers, not romantically in any way.

"A tooth." He spat out before curling his lips into the most sickening of grins.

'_What?!'_

Before she could even respond to that single word, his lips tenderly placed themselves against hers and speech became silence. There was no fierceness, no passion. It was sweet, simple, and entirely breathtaking. His hand firmly fitted on the small of her back, pushing her forward into him as his other hand buried itself into her hair. What was he doing? Cupid's mind didn't want to kiss him, to feel his hands against her body. It wanted to argue and fight over that dumb word, 'Tooth', there was so much more to that word, something he wasn't telling her, a word, a precaution, a warning that she desperately was trying to get him to reveal. Reality and consequences were viruses and Pitch Black was the only remedy. But God, he tasted so good. The Guardian could feel her body respond to him in ways she could always control around others but never ever with him. How could he go from malicious and cruel to genuinely romantic in just a matter of seconds? A monster turned gentleman was kissing her right here and now. She managed to catch her breath when he released the hold on her mouth and buried his face into the crook of her neck, moaning with a voice that sounded impatient and hesitant.

Pitch Black was at a loss with himself over this damn woman. He could feel words, life changing words burning on the tip of his tongue, but his hands dismissed them without the smallest concern when tight blonde coils wrapped themselves around his long fingers. The rest of the evening could have been another disaster, hours wasted that they both later would come to regret. And he would never let that happen again. Here she was…his own personal guardian and although it would take every bit of strength he had, he had to protect what they had…whatever it was they had. It was hard enough keeping his feelings, for lack of a better term, out of their everyday expressions to each other but to say them – that was there anything that needed to be said at all? Over the centuries, he had never been so foolish as to give his heart to anyone. There was never a need to and he refused to lose control of it over this woman and yet, in so many ways, Pitch Black knew he already had.

"Cupid…" he softly whimpered, mesmerized by the intense gaze of her piercing purples.

The guardian nuzzled her face into his chest and she could have sworn that he stopped breathing for a brief moment. His confidence always soared or dwindled around her and it hadn't escaped her notice. An uncontainable heat burned between their bodies as his lips brushed against her ear.

"There are things I can't tell you." he whispered. "You have to understand that."

She held her breath as she were about to protest, but ultimately didn't. Biting her lower lip in, Cupid pressed herself way from his torso and violently began searching his eyes, trying to find another reason, the real reason why he just couldn't be honest with her. There was always something holding him back. And it was not like him. For twelve years, he was never wary around her but now…it was as if he were a different man entirely. When one is around the same person for several centuries, imperfect, beautiful habits begin to surface and Cupid Bowenaro was no exception to this rule. She chewed on the corner of her mouth when she was overthinking, hid behind her wings when she was scared, and touched her scar when overwhelmed with an intense emotion of any kind. She was absolutely perfect, she was his, and he knew deep down, beneath the layers upon layers of feelings for this woman, he did not deserve her. That was the thrill of all of this, wasn't it? Darkness and light, fear and love, together.

Together.

"_What are we? Us…I mean." _ That childish question penetrated his thoughts, he had condemned her for asking such a dumb question but now, he wondered it himself like the sick fool he was beginning to become. No one had ever made him feel like this. So powerful in measures of strength, so protective and willing to kill for her if he ever had to, and yet so weak to the simplest of things, like a nose wrinkle or a smile or a kiss or a laugh. Cupid could always take his strength.

Gripping tightly on the reins of his self-control, Pitch Black gave a small peck to her forehead before pulling away entirely from her warm, comforting embrace.

"Cupid, I…" He was not ready to tell her, he couldn't tell her…not of his feelings, not now. There was no way. No realistic way that she would ever feel the same. She was an angel, a perfect being, a lover to thousands and he was just another number. A lover for a time being, until she desired someone else. Nothing more.

"_Whore. She's nothing but a temptress bringing you to your knees. How far you've already fallen, Master. How weak you've become over a worthless woman. Take your heart back." _

"I think you… should spend time with them tomorrow." Those words couldn't have been any further from the truth, but as the tight as the reins were around his own feelings, the same could not be said about her. She was impulsive, incredibly unpredictable, and the Boogieman could feel what he always thought to be his unsinkable composure begin to slightly crumble as her fingers laced themselves into his and he hated it. He hated that he was driving her in Jack's arms, granting her time away from him that he would never be able to get back. But that was the way it had to be. For now. Until everything made sense.

"Darling…what's wrong?"

To that he no reply but to simply turn his back on her, to hide his shame, to hide the truth and face the darkness. Cupid was the Guardian of Love, claiming to know when others felt it, especially if they felt it towards her. But…was this love? He didn't know for sure, and he didn't want to know.

"_Trust is love, master. You cannot trust a woman who has been with thousands of men."_

"You want me to leave you...to see them? To see Jack?"

It was painful. To hear those words covered with her unnaturally sweet voice leave her chocolate flavored tongue was just enough for Pitch Black to break down and snap the son of winter's spine. She belonged to him, not that insufferable brat. He had given her a token of his long lasting affections under the disguise of a parting gift, and she had accepted it without the slightest bit of resistance, but it was Jack Frost, the most pathetic excuse for a guardian in existence, who desired her heart and her body. He could never begin to understand the complexities of her. Her little habits, the precise length and width of her scar, her freckles, her impulses, her responses to being touched, being kissed…being his.

"Yes."

"Tell me the truth, Pitch. Why?"

"It's been a month now. Suspicions might arise."

"Mortis knows. It's only a matter of time until the others find out as well…"

"I doubt it. Who is he going to tell? Really?"

"Pitch…"

He couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that when he wasn't looking at her, he was thinking of her. She would run. And that was a risk he was never willing to take, not when she had already risked so much to be with him and he had given so much of himself in return.

"I want some time to think. By myself."

"Are you tired of me?"

There it was, the unmistakable fear that always hovered over her. She wasn't scared of him, never. She was scared of herself. Of her flaws, her slight paranoia, that she may not good enough for him. How foolish was she to think that that he didn't want her anymore. How dare she even allow that thought into her daft…clever head. Putting aside his pride and turning around to face her, looking at her now, with her wild, untamable curls defying all laws of gravity, her eyes that made the brightest purples of the night sky dull by comparison, her flawless shimmering skin that she had given to him and him alone, the highest privilege of a shape-shifter, his majesty knew he would never stop wanting her, even if he wanted to stop. Even if he tried. For the rest of his days until the Earth died. He would want her. Always.

"Never think for a single second that I don't desire you. I know you're very aware of your effect on others, but you should know that I…"

And that's when she ran. She ran as fast as she could into his arms, breaking, no shattering his shield completely. She had to. She had to feel him. All of him right now. Then she spoke it, a truth. It was small, only two words to be exact but it was perfect, a remedy of the best kind.

"I know." She hushed before he could finish.

"How?" he whispered, his voice slightly shaking as her fingertips danced against his skin.

'_Because I…'_

"I…"

With a huff and low growl, the Boogieman let his feelings overtake him, dismissed the hindering voices in the darkness and tossed her on the bed. That shimmering skin, those heart shaped lips, those bright purples were in his sight and he couldn't hold back any longer. Without any hesitance, he disappeared his clothes entirely, gripped onto her ankles and pulled her still very conservatively dressed body to the edge of his bed. Standing above her, feet firmly on the ground, Pitch slowly traced a finger down the center of her body, turning the tight white dress to sand as he went over her breasts, over her stomach, over her scar all the while her breathing was reduced to a slow, heaving, sinful sound that instantly hardened his cock. When he finally reached her core, the dress for Death was gone, and in its place, much to his surprise was not a naked body but an outfit that she must have been wearing just for him.

Damn this woman.

A transparent bra that barely covered her erect, rosebud nipples matched perfectly with a corset that laced up the front, pushing her voluptuous breast together against her chest. A matching garter belt donned itself around her beautiful curves, accenting her hips like never before and hooked from that was a pair of thigh high stockings that covered all but the white, milky skin of her upper thighs, her bruises gone. Her underwear was just a piece of tiny, fragile fabric.

And it was all lace.  
Black lace.

For the first time, Cupid Bowenaro, The Guardian of Love, Romance, and Purity…was wearing black and it aroused him to a level that he never dreamed to be physically possible. He wanted, no…he needed her right now.

"You've…" he gulped deeply, trying to catch his breath, trying to form the words to say without stuttering. "…been wearing this all day…?"

Cupid purred slowly, allowing a low chuckle to escape her pouty lips. Passion, seduction, and desire were her strongest suits and she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. And this time, she would win the challenge. Claim the competition as the victor. She would break his body.

"Mortis knew." She boasted, raising an eyebrow to further prove her confidence. "He reached out for me. Nothing gets past him though."

"You're mine. Only I can touch you." The King commanded to his guardian, unknowingly falling right into Cupid's trap. He was going to lose.

"Is that so?" Licking her lips with that irresistible tongue, Cupid gave her blonde, curly hair a shake before relocating her hand to the burning flame between her legs. Pitch Black, entranced to the point where breathing had to be controlled, could only watch as her tiny fingers pulled on the delicate fabric guarding her entrance.

"Still want me to leave, Darling?" He felt his jaw lower slightly when not one, but two of her fingers entered her soft, moist heat. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her back arched up against the sheets, giving him permission to fuck her when he regained his senses. Her fingers brushed across her wet walls, teasing him, showing him precisely what he needed to do, what she wanted him to do...what his body was so desperately wanting him to do. He was resisting because he would never admit to losing. Squeezing a breast with her free hand and continuing to pleasure herself with the other, she uttered a soft mew between her teeth as her wings, all colored the purest of holy whites with the exception of one, slowly stretched themselves against the sheets.

His angel.  
His black laced angel.

That was it.

He couldn't take it anymore, not touching her, not being inside her, not feeling those tight, wet walls grip around him, not feeling such soft thighs wrapped his waist.

He needed to have her now.  
He needed to fuck her right now.

Without thinking, he pinned both of her small wrists above her head and with a push of his hips, he forced himself inside of her. And thrust into her until a numbing pleasure overtook both of their sexes.

Cupid gasped for air beneath him. Biting and scratching his chest, his arms, his shoulders, whispering…whimpering breathless words as he rode her. Telling him to fuck her harder, to fuck her faster and every time she felt him coming to the brink, she would raise her hips into the air, gripping around his shaft like vine and he could continue to pump into her. The bra was torn apart, the corset ripped open, the belt and tights shredded and lastly, the underwear snapped and discarded. He wanted dominance but she wanted control. They battled each other between huffs, pleas, and pants. She would try to sit up and bite him or suck on his neck only to be pushed back on to the bed and time and time again. As he thrust in and out of her, making her breasts bounce with every push, he finally gave into her games and oddly enough, wasn't as disappointed as he thought it would be, she had rightfully earned it this time and once again, he felt foolish for doubting her. For underestimating her.

She was here with him. Wearing that. For him. And he wanted to push her away so he could think? How ignorant. How childish. There was nothing to think about.

"Make me come! Oh God! Please, make me come for you!" she cried out, her chest heaving from the satisfaction and sweat of his body while exhaustion began to overtake hers. And he did. Passion and seduction may be in her favor but stamina was definitely in his. Reaching his own orgasm just seconds after hers, he felt her tightness wrapped him as he fucked and fucked and fucked until he emptied himself inside of her, satisfying them both on the edge of bliss. Pushing a wet, black strand from his face, she brought her lips to his cheek, kissing it softly as his fingertips danced with a blonde curl.

Hours into the night, as he slept soundly beside her, aside from the occasional turns and pulls from what she could only assume to be pettish nightmares and bad dreams, she was forced awake by a soft, but persistent ball of fluff that childishly nudged itself against her face.

"Oh, hello you." She had a motherly tone now, kind and patient to her little worker. Not every day did a small cumulus cloud stray away from its duties, but the surprised was never the less welcomed. "I've missed you too." Cupid whispered, rubbing her nose into the white puff. It was then and only then that she noticed a small roll of parchment floating inside the cloud. "May I?" it nodded its body up and down excitedly before going in for one last nuzzle, leaving the note behind on the bed as it disappeared up into the tunnel leading to the place entrance.

'_Cupid,  
It's been a while. Nearly a month since I've seen you last. Wasn't sure where to find you, so I sent a lil worker bee to find his queen. Eager, that one is, so excited to see you. I hope you've had the safest of travels. The 4__th__ is just a few days away. San Diego sound alright? Apparently, it's got one of the best shows in the country, but we'll be the judge of that, won't we? See you soon._

_I miss you._

_Love, Jack.'_

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**Again, I apologize so much for the delay. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was a real treat to right. As stated above, I won't be updating again until July, gots lots of family stuffs goin on. But I would love some reviews, always boost the day, make it a lil bit better, you know? **** XOXO lovelies, hope you all have a safe and fun summer.**


	10. Confrontation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch or Rise of the Guardians. I do own my interpretation of Cupid and Mortis however.**

**Okay. First things first. I know. I should have updated a loooooooooooong time ago. But in the midst of traveling to Nebraska to see my nerd herd, I also celebrated my daughter's very first birthday, and began the second quarter of my PharmD program. However, shortly after, my daughter had to have surgery on her ears (nothing real major but still….) and it was incredibly stressful on me and my school work and this story couldn't have been further from my mind and I'm so sorry. That really wasn't fair to you guys. Any of you. Again, thank you all for your incredibly patience with me, I got a lot and I mean a lot of favorites and followers over this terribly long hiatus and I can't even begin to express the gratitude towards you guys. I really mean it when I say that I wouldn't have been able to make it this far without you all. It's been a long, painful, and incredibly stressful summer and I'm so thankful it's over.**

**Thank You. All of you.**

**Please R&R.**

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**Chapter Nine**

**Confrontation**

"_The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." – Mark Twain_

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His long silver hair was tied loosely behind his back into a thin ponytail that dragged silently alongside his maroon cape. The steps of his black boots echoed in every direction as his right hand tightly clutched the revolver on his hip with anticipation but without fear. The air was stale, cold, and silent. The air was dead. The cages didn't swing and the shift in the atmosphere hadn't gone unnoticed by the ruler of this kingdom. It had been years, hundreds of years since Death had seen this underground palace. This maze of twisted metal and curved stone. An illusion for the unprepared and he never was. Mortis was always one step ahead of everyone. Even fear himself.

"I'm a little starstruck, Mortis." said the voice sitting atop the highest cage. It was the voice of nightmares, the voice that haunted so many children, the shadows in the dark, the whispers under the bed. It was voice of Pitch Black. And it was coming from everywhere.

Above him. In the darkness.

Death was cunning. And Mortis did not fear the unknown. He was the unknown. He was silence.

"What's the occasion, old friend?" the voice spoke again.

To his left. On the wall.

"Your attempts to frighten me are rather amusing, Pitch. Still recovering from the beating all those years ago? Go on, humor me some more." The Reaper's deep baritone mocked against the cages of metal and walls of stone. It was unusual. So highly unusual to speak to a fellow immortal that wasn't his goddess, his Cupid. He wanted to pretend he didn't know the exact number of years that had passed since he had spoken to another male. But he did. And it had to be Pitch Black. His fingers danced across the trigger of his revolver. Just in case. He would not hesitate. There was too much between them. Too much history, too much to be settled. Pitch's relations to his precious friend would mean nothing to him if the opportunity arose. Mortis would not hesitate to kill him. He wanted to. For the damnation, for the centuries of loneliness, for the millions upon millions of humans who hid from him because of Pitch Black, because of that idea. That small, destructive idea. That death was to be feared.

And fear himself was silent.

To his right.  
No.  
Behind him.

The Scythe was raised and The Revolver was withdrawn. Pitch was fast, but not fast enough. Mortis' polished, porcelain finger was sturdy against the trigger. His stance proper and confident, with one arm extended out to Pitch's head, his weapon an inch way from the grey skin between the Boogieman's eclipsed eyes. And the Scythe was frozen in midair, paralyzed in the hands of its owner. Nowhere near the Grim. Death was faster. Death was prepared. Always.

"If you have the nerve to set foot in my kingdom without an invitation, have the respect to at least arrive unarmed, Your Highness." Pitch muttered, his weapon disappearing before he bowed respectfully. His thin lips forming a deceiving grin as he did so. Mortis was so tempted. So very tempted. He could see the back of his enemy's head and his silver, dead eyes focused on their target. It wouldn't take much. Not even a second. He was fast. He would not address Pitch by his self-proclaimed title as 'King'. He was no King. He was no Majesty. And Mortis would not bow. Fear was not above him.

"Pitch." He calmly spoke, retracting his gun back to his hip and taking a step back to allow some distance between the two immortals. While he was no King, this was his domain, his kingdom, his part of the Earth that the Moon had given him. Underground. Away from the humans, away from the other immortals. All except for one.

The Guardian whose kingdom sat the very highest, just above the clouds and just beneath the stars.

"To what do I owe this incredible honor, Mortis?" The Boogieman inquired, leaning against a cold wall with his arms crossed, smiling his jagged teeth to the immortal whose honor had been stripped away. And Mortis hated him for it.

"I have recently been informed of your current relationship with Ms. Bowenaro." Death replied, his lips twitching as the honest words of this very real, very bizarre, and very unfair situation were brought into the limelight.

This was not a conversation Pitch wanted to have, not with Death, not with anyone. What he and Cupid had…whatever it was they had, was no one's business but their own and even then, they danced around the subject themselves. Avoiding it for the sake of regret and rejection. There was something there and there was nothing there. Intense feelings and no feelings at all. This wouldn't last forever. It couldn't. Summer days began to move faster as the summer nights grew shorter. The leaves would soon change and she would have to back to her life as a guardian. It would grow harder each and every single day to be apart for so long. The nights would belong to them, yes. But how long until that ended? How long until this underground palace of shadow and darkness would leave her unsatisfied? Leave her with uncertainty? It would only take one time. One single moment. Perhaps she would be too overwhelmed with work, maybe she would miss the stars. Maybe in a hundred years or so, a new guardian would be knighted and he would be the man of her dreams, not the underground creature of nightmares. But for Pitch Black, there would never be another. No one could ever compare to her and no one ever would. She was perfect, and right now, in this one single moment, she was his.

_"Stay…with me…"_

"The relationship between Cupid and I…" He began to say, trying so hard to be strong, to be cunning, to be confidant. To prove to Mortis this woman, this guardian, this enemy by the laws of nature and reason meant nothing to him. That she was a whore. That he had forced her onto him for his own selfish, sick, sexual desires because no one in their right mind, even him, would ever deny her if given the opportunity. That she was nothing but a perverted distraction until he reclaimed his strength. Until he had the chance to try and reclaim this world as his own once more. The way he had always wanted to be. Nothing but darkness, nightmares, and fear. No light. No love.

'_Because I…'_

'_I...'_

But he couldn't find the words.  
Because they were untrue.  
Because he…

And Mortis stood silently, patiently waiting for the truth.

"…is no concern of yours." He finished with a strong sense of defiance in his voice. His masked confidence on show for the Reaper accented with a smile. And the Reaper's patience was beginning to thin.

"This isn't a game, Pitch." His velvet voice stressed, taking one step closer to his enemy. His composure remaining proper and confidant. "We were present the day she died. We both know what she did… Why she became a guardian."

"That means nothing to me." He lied, turning his back on Mortis who suddenly reappeared in front of him. A little bit too close for comfort. And Pitch suddenly remembered why these two immortals could never settle their deep rooted hatred for each other.

It all came back to the tooth.  
The tooth that Pitch so very much desired to have in his possession. And when he was denied that possession, it became the tooth solely responsible for Death's eternal damnation. The stripping away of all his honor.  
It was the tooth that Mortis still obtained because he was always one step ahead of everyone and no one was above him. Because he trusted no one, not even the Tooth Fairy, with the memories residing within it.

The memories of Lilith Kissinger.

"Don't you dare try to impress me, Pitch. She speaks very fondly of you for reasons I cannot seem to understand. She defends you against me when I question her happiness in this 'relationship', and she never denies you. Yet, you stand before me, insulting her, degrading her to the image of a whore, a useless sex object in your life because you refuse to admit that she is so much more to you. Your selfishness and lack of control is undoubtedly going to hurt her and do you know what will happen if you-"

"Leave me alone, Mortis." Was all he could force himself to whisper against the heavy, honest words that echoed throughout the stale air of his lair. It was too much. He suddenly felt the smallest feeling of regret. Regret that he had ever met that woman, that he had become so taken by her, so attracted to her, so dependent on her, so in…

'_I…'_

Then he turned away once more.

"DON'T YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON ME, PITCHINER!" Death furiously roared, rattling the dozens of cages descending from the ceilings of the Boogieman's underground labyrinth. That was the breaking point. For both of them. Death and Fear. This would be settled. Now.

Pitch couldn't find the strength to catch his breath. His whole body became numb. That name. His name. His human name. But he would have to turn back around. And face the man, face the monster who stole that name from him, all those years ago…

'_How long has it been…since I've heard that name…'_

"Do you know what will happen if you ever harm her, if you hurt Ms. Bowe-…Cupid in any way?" The Reaper calmed asked his fellow immortal, readjusting the jacket of his suit that gained a few wrinkles from the sudden loss of proper and confidant composure.

"Oh, let me guess, Mortis. I get killed." Pitch mocked, spinning around to face his enemy, with an eyebrow cocked. Because he was not afraid of Death.

"I will not hesitate to end your immortality, Pitch. Slowly, painfully, so much that you will beg for my release." He hissed through his teeth, his eyes narrowed. His fingertips subconsciously brushing across the top of his revolver.

"Oh, I look forward to that. Is that really the best you can do? Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

"Then comes the worst part." Mortis continued, taking one small step forward, the moons in his eyes baring deeply into the eclipses of Pitch's eyes. "You'll turn back into one of them. Those pathetic, mindless sacks of flesh that walk over my world. You will lose everything. Every memory of your past existence, your kingdom, your height of glory, every single memory will die. Even her. You will never see her again. You will never remember her eyes, her hair, her smile, her body, her warmth, she will disappear from your heart completely. And I will be there, every single day. From the second you take your first breath until the second your last breath leaves your lungs, I will be there, hanging over you. Torturing you. Plaguing your mind with my presence until your brain turns to mush and your body rots into the Earth. And that's where you will stay. Underground. Alone and exhausted. Until I decide it's time for this planet to die."

Fear himself was silent.  
And Death had gained the upper hand.

"Interesting." Was all Mortis said in response to a single, small observation. "The note in your hand, her invitation from Jack Frost."

"What about it?" Pitch hung his head now; he hadn't even remembered the small piece of paper resting in the palm of his hand. The physical reminder that she was not here with him today, she was with…him. The Son of Winter. Because the Boogieman couldn't find the words to say. Because he…

He couldn't look into those eyes. Those silver eyes that had seen so much. That could do so much. That knew everything. He wanted to be strong. But this was Death. This was Cupid's protector, her guardian. And she was precious to him.

But she was so much more to Pitch Black than just precious. And he had just proven it. And Mortis finally saw Pitch's true feelings for the Guardian of Romance expressed in the smallest of gestures.

_"I know, Mortis. It just feels…different with him. He's different around me, he acts different, and he speaks different…"  
"I remain unconvinced."  
"If you're so worried, you should talk to him yourself."_

"You tightened your grip on it at the mention of losing her. It is not Death you fear, Pitch."

"Why are you here?" The Boogieman asked. Defeat, exhaustion, and honesty coated his voice. He did not welcome Death's company today. He needed his guardian, his light. She believed in him and he needed her now. So desperately. For the first time in several weeks, he felt alone. He felt weak. He felt defenseless. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to wish, and desire, and dream, and fantasize. He didn't have to for the past several weeks and he couldn't…he couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel if that was ever taken away from him. To have this kingdom. This lonely, dark, broken empire to be deprived of her laughter, her curls, her freckles, her perfections, her imperfections. How could he ever go back to the way it was?

'_Cupid…don't go…please…don't go…I can't…lose you…I...l-'_

That nightmare.  
Her eyes turning grey.

He was scared of losing her.  
He couldn't lose her.

His light.

"He's planning on proposing to her. Very soon, actually." Mortis' tone drastically changed. This was the truth and it was painful for him to say. Because he didn't have to say who.

But it was more painful for Pitch to hear. It was shattering. He had suspected, no…he knew for quite some time how much that guardian desired her. They all desired her. But no one more than that…boy. Jack Frost. Would it always end this way? Would that insufferable excuse for an immortal always come between him and what he wanted? Were they destined to fight? To kill each other?

"And you know this how?" Stupid Question. And Mortis had to fight every instinct not to laugh in his face, not for the sake of decency, but because he wanted to. He wanted this man, this monster to feel every single bit of loneliness he had endeavored for himself.

"She told me yesterday, just before I made her tell what was going on between the two of you."

'_I bet any day now, the idiot will propose to you and it'll go right over your daft head!'_

That clever girl.

"What do you want me to do about it, Mortis?" Pitch shot back harshly, the anger and bitterness of the situation burning fiercely on the end of his tongue. He didn't want to fight, not again, not this soon. He would have to battle her. And he couldn't do that. He would admit defeat against them, to admit shame before he would ever lay a single finger on her.  
Not again.

And if that meant her happiness…

"That is not my place to say. However, I would prefer not to be involved in whatever the final action of consequence might be. I cannot act against the instinct of my duties, whoever the unfortunate immortal is on the receiving end." He stated, brushing a few loose strands of thin silver hair behind his ear. Then he looked away from his enemy, focusing his troubled thoughts on something else. Anything else than this creator of nightmares and fears, darkness and shadows.

It wasn't Pitch he feared touching.  
And it wasn't Jack either.

"Put her safety before yourself and do not let doubt and jealously guide your decisions." Then Mortis was silent as he looked away from his precious friend who had just returned from her day out. Pitch Black hadn't even noticed her flying into his domain. Too many other thoughts consumed his mind.

"Pitch?" the soft, lovely voice of romance broke through the heavy, stale air. And it was the sweet sound of release and relief. She was here. He could hear her. He could see her. And he was so grateful for her impeccable timing. He couldn't stop it. He didn't want to stop it. The smile forming in the corners of his mouth. And Mortis looked away. Because she chose fear. She chose the night. The kindest of all beings and he could never touch her. He couldn't. Not without losing her. Forever. But Pitch Black could. And it tugged and pulled against his perfect composure that it would always be like this. He couldn't look at her.

But the golden, eclipsed eyes of her lover could.

Her massive blonde curls were pulled tightly into high ponytail, with the exception of a couple loose spirals that framed her face just right. A light blush adored her cheeks. Her outfit of choice was horribly modern, a white romper with thin straps against her shoulders. Her legs were exposed to a degree than what he was entirely comfortable with but right now it didn't matter. She was here.

'_You came back…'_

"Cupid…" he forced out, taking her in. All of her, just as she was. Because she was his.

"Mortis." She curtsied to her lifelong companion and friend, incredibly embarrassed she was not only unprepared for his appearance in her temporary home, but also that she was dressed so insultingly provocative. Respect of the dead was a given. And she, unlike him, was caught off guard.

"Ms. Bowenaro." His deep baritone muttered over his shoulder before finally turning around to face her. It would never be fair. But he bowed to her, recognizing her as the goddess she once was so very long ago and the guardian she was always meant to be. And the Queen he knew she could be, that he wanted her to be. His Queen. And then with a billow of his maroon cape, he vanished from the palace of nightmares and shadows. To be alone. Always. Alone.

"Why was he here? What did you two talk about?" she asked, embracing her lover with a gentleness meant only for him and was welcome with a small kiss to the forehead. "Finally resolve your differences?" Her eyes were smiling at him, those beautiful breathtaking violet eyes that held all the light of the stars. They were shining for him. Just for him. The threat of Jack Frost's proposal suddenly meant nothing.

"Do you miss the stars?" he whispered softly into her ear. And he heard her breath hitch as her eyes widened. He had to know. He had to know if she ever did, because if she did, he would give her the stars. He would sit atop her kingdom with her, the kingdom so high above the clouds, so far away from his own palace, and he would give her stars every single night if it meant that she would stay. If she would come back.

If she would always come back.

'_Because I…'_

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**Oh my GOD! I missed this story so damn much! Again, I'm so sorry for the hiatus. And I really hope you understand the circumstances but deep down, it's no excuse. But thanks to a special reviewer, teeceecee, I was inspired to come back and finish this bad boy! Thank you.**

**And Thanks to all you for your patience.**

**ALSO! I'm in the process of creating a music playlist on 8tracks for this story. BUT, I would love your guys' input! Send your suggestions via pm or review on what you think would be some good tunage for this story? What songs remind you of Pitch and Cupid? Or Jack and Cupid? Or even Mortis? I'm open to anything! LET'S MAKE THIS A TEAM EFFORT! **

**Please R&R Lovelies! An update will be happening soon! : )**


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